Thank you so much for all your encouraging reviews. I am feeling a lot better about this fic now, especially seeing as there is no pressure to match a chapter with a word. But in saying that, I felt as this word not only summed up Ron/Hermione in general, it also went well with the idea I had for this chapter. I just HAD to use it.

I do not own Harry Potter, of course.

Pettifog

To bicker or quibble over trifles or unimportant matters

"Ron, not there! Do you want Rose to trip over it and break her neck?"

"Well where do you want me to put it?" Ron demanded grumpily, moving the bookshelf for the fifth time in ten minutes. "You put it where you want it!"

Hermione pushed past him and moved the shelf against the wall, out of the way from any two year olds. With a satisfied smile, she turned around and made for the next item – a table.

Three months it had taken them to build their house. It was a lot easier with magic. Muggles had to build a house from scratch. Ron was rather pleased with how it had turned out, though. It gave him a strong sense of his childhood. Although it wasn't the same, aspects of his new house reminded him of the Burrow. He liked it.

And so did Rose. He smiled as he watched her drag a in a small box of her toys, Harry following.

"Are you two arguing again?" he questioned.

"No," Ron replied at the same time as Hermione. She smiled at him. "Hermione's just being her usual I-want-to-do-everything-myself." Her smile vanished and was replaced by a deathly stare.

Moods, he thought sourly. Her moods were worse when she was pregnant.

"My room?" Rose beamed up at Harry.

"You've showed me it three times already, Rosie," Harry said, ruffling up her already messy hair. "But, you can show me again!" he added quickly, seeing Rose's smile falter.

"She's decorated it since last time," Ron called out as his friend vanished up the stairs, Rose pulling on his hand. "I hope you like pink!"

The colour pink was a very new obsession of Rose's. Everything they bought for her had to be pink. Even if it was something as simple as ice-cream.

"Why do you have to be so rude sometimes?" Hermione demanded when they were alone.

Ron held his tongue. There was no point arguing with her. She was always going to win.

"Should we bring some more stuff into the house?" he asked instead. "Otherwise we'll be sleeping in the car."

"Which you still haven't learnt to drive," Hermione retorted.

"I have no need to learn how to drive a car," Ron argued. "I can Apparate and take the Floo Network whenever I want."

Hermione scowled, brushing past him. Ron followed reluctantly. He couldn't wait until this baby was born, if only it was to end the worst of Hermione's mood. He hoped it would change in the next few hours. She had been happy when they had left that morning.

They spent the rest of the morning bringing furniture into their new house. By early afternoon, it was actually starting to look like home. Ron beamed, looking around their brand new living room. He did miss their old place, but this definitely was somewhere he felt more comfortable.

Here, they were free to be themselves. No lying to their neighbours about their professions, no forcing their two year old daughter to keep a secret as big as that. Even Hermione confessed they should have moved a long time ago. Perhaps even before they bought their house in a Muggle town.

"It's looking good, guys," Harry said, coming to stand beside Ron, also admiring the living room.

"Yep," Ron agreed. "It's a lot bigger too. Our other place was way too small. I can see that now."

"Especially with two kids," Harry said.

"Says you, who lives in a noble wizarding family's house!" Ron exclaimed.

"You'd be surprised how much space one small person can take up."

"Oh, no, believe me, I know very well. Everywhere I turn, there's something that belongs to Rose. I never realised how much she owned until I had to pack it all away."

"You're the one who bought her most of it," Hermione said, coming into the room. "You get her anything she wants. It's not good for any of us."

"Well, we can afford to give her the luxuries I never had," Ron said defensively. He liked spoiling Rose. It made up for everything he missed out on as a child. "I'm just waiting for her to ask for a broom. I can't wait to start teaching her Quidditch!"

Harry laughed. "Mate, I think she's already made it clear she prefers books to broomsticks."

"Yeah, well, she might change her mind."

Hermione made a sound which sounded strangely like the words 'not if I can help it'. Ron chose to ignore it. Rose could like books as much as it pleased her – he loved reading to her – but he hoped that one day, she would also come to love Quidditch. It was only right.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Harry then said. "Enjoy your first night here. Tomorrow, I'll bring James and Al and Ginny if she wants."

"Yay!" Rose exclaimed.

"I thought you'd like to see them, Rosie," Harry said. He made for the fireplace, but Ron stopped him.

"Not connected yet, mate," he said.

Harry sighed. "Right. See you." And he Apparated.

"A productive day, don't you think?" Ron asked Hermione, hoping she wasn't going to snap at him. Thankfully, she smiled.

"Yes, I do."

"What should we do for the rest of the day, then?"

"Read!" Rose exclaimed.

"Rosie, surely you're sick of those stories by now," Ron said.

Rose shook her head and brought over a different book. It was new. It contained fictional, romanticised stories of the Battle. He had heard of it, but had never had the courage to read them. Not until Hermione had decided it would be a good idea to get it for her.

I'm sick of Beedle the Bard, she had told him. She needs something new.

Rose forced the book into his hand. One day, he thought. She will come to love Quidditch as much as this.

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