Word Count: 567
So much for our plans, Ron thinks as he watches the rain beat against the window. It had just been a light drizzle maybe an hour ago, just light enough to give him hope. Now, it's damn near storming out, and he knows their plans are officially canceled, though neither have said it aloud.
Still, Ron supposes it isn't the most horrible thing to happen. When he was younger, a rainy day spent inside would feel like the end of the world. But now?
His gaze wanders to where Hermione is curled up on the couch, bundled up in her favorite mocha and cream striped blanket. There's a book in her lap, and her hands only ever poke out from beneath the blanket to turn the page. She isn't bothered by the rain, or the fact that their plans are ruined, and that makes it a little easier for Ron to not stress.
With a smile, he carefully sneaks past her. If she notices him at all, she doesn't say anything. Maybe she's too lost in her book, as she so often is.
Once in the kitchen, Ron sets about, getting to work. On the particularly yucky days, his mum always had a special solution, one that kept Ron and all his siblings happy. Sometimes he wonders if his mum has a special sort of magic in her blood, one that can't be learned at Hogwarts. If so, Rob hopes that magic runs in veins too. Merlin knows he is mostly hopeless when it comes to domestic magic, not that it stops him from trying.
Getting the milk to the perfect temperature without burning it is difficult without much practice, but Ron manages it after two failed attempts. He adds the cocoa powder, sugar, and just a pinch of cinnamon, exactly how his mum would make it. The warm, sweet smell fills the air, and he breathes it in, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. No, rainy days aren't so bad, not when you can spend them with the one you love.
"I brought you something," Ron says when he approaches his wife.
Hermione sits up, eyes widening slightly. A soft smile plays at her lips. "That smells wonderful," she says, slipping her arms from under the blanket and taking the mug of hot cocoa. "Aren't you cold?"
Ron frowns. It's chilly outside, but inside is comfortable enough. Hermione tends to be more cold-natured, so it only makes sense that she would need a blanket while he's perfectly fine. "No. Feels sort of nice."
His wife gives him a look, some cross between Merlin, you're hopeless and You're lucky you're so cute. "Oh. I was just thinking that if you're cold, it's the perfect sort of day to curl up together on the couch."
"Oh."
Ron really is a bit clueless sometimes. He's glad Hermione still loves him, even if he's a bit slow to the uptake every now and then.
"Now that you mention it, it is a bit drafty in here."
Hermione lifts the blanket and adjusts her position, leaving enough room for Ron to join her. He cuddles in close, a smile on his lips as Hermione wraps her arms around him.
"It would be an absolute shame if the weather postponed our plans tomorrow too," she murmurs in his ear.
And for once, Ron can't help but hope for another rainy day.