Showtime, We Know: dog

Amber's Attic: RonHermione

Hamilton Mania, getting a promotion: excitement (Hermione Granger)

Word Count: 578

For Ash

"Hermione?" Ron glances up from the Daily Prophet, offering his wife a smile. "I've been thinking…"

She nibbles at her toast, eyebrows raised. She swallows. "What about?"

Ron hesitates. He knows the idea is preposterous, and now it's hard to voice it. Maybe he's just being impulsive, which makes it seem even more ridiculous since Hermione likes logic and consideration.

"What do you think about maybe having another kid?"

Hermione chokes on her toast. Quick as he can, Ron throws the newspaper aside and hurries to her, patting her back awkwardly. "I'm fine, Ronald," she says at last. "Just… another kid?"

He returns to his seat, his cheeks burning. "Well… You know… It's quiet with Rose and Hugo at school," he explains. "I don't like it."

For several moments, Hermione just stares at him. Her nose scrunches slightly, and her brown eyes narrow in thought. Ron can't help but feel a flicker of hope coursing through his veins.

"Ron, that isn't a very good idea," she says. "Hugo is nearly twelve. He and Rose are close enough in age to be friends… whenever they get along, anyway." She pauses and takes a deep breath, her fingers tapping restlessly against the table. "A twelve year difference is a bit much, don't you think?"

Of course she would have a logical outlook on this. Ron knows he should have expected it, but he can't help being more than a little disappointed. "Right. Yeah…"

…

"I would personally recommend the Nosebleed Nougat," Ron tells the eager customer before him. "Lots of effectiveness without being completely disgusting like the Puking Pastilles."

The boy giggles and reaches for it, but his mother stops him before giving Ron a reproachful look. With a shrug, Ron makes his way over to George and leans in. "Why come to a bloody joke shop if you've got a stick up your arse?" he whispers into his brother's good ear.

George shrugs. "Been asking myself that for years, mate," he says. "Now, while you were busy failing to make a sale—"

"Sod off."

"—your wife Fire Messaged," George says, as though Ron hadn't interrupted at all. "She said she has a surprise for you."

Ron considers this. After his embarrassing failure at breakfast this morning, he can't bring bring himself to get too excited. "Excellent, I guess," he says with a shrug.

"You guess? Normally when Ang says she has surprise for me, I come home to some fancy schmancy new dessert she's decided to try out."

Ron doubts it will be anything so grand. Still, Hermione doesn't often try to surprise him. Whatever it is, it must be important. The more he thinks about it, the more excited he gets.

…

He's practically giddy with excitement when he comes home. "Hermione?"

There's no answer. Ron checks his watch, frowning. She should definitely be home by now.

"Hermione?" he calls again.

Instead of an answer, he hears a hurried little tap, tap, tap. A moment later, an eager little terrier appears before him, wagging its tail. Confused, Ron kneels before it, gently scratching its head. "How'd you get in here, fella?" he asks.

"Through the door," Hermione says, appearing in the doorway. She offers him a bright smile. "Obviously."

"He's ours?"

She nods, patting her knee. "Come here, Huck," she calls, and the excited pup skids along, yipping excitedly. "See? No more empty nest."

Ron moves closer, and wraps his arms around her, kissing her gently. "It's perfect."