Chapter Rating: PG
Summary: Ron is having one of those days… (bit of a post-Hogwarts domestic day in the life) triggers: blood, allusions to Ron and Hermione doing it.

Ron let their dog Chudley into the back garden, then collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. The shop had been unaccountably busy for a Thursday, and almost half their staff were out sick with Fwooper Flu, including George. He had a few investor meetings, a Ministry contractor for their Defense products, and had to simultaneously man the floor of their flagship shop so it wouldn't be a complete disaster when his meetings convened.

As it always was when a shop was lean staffed, his work shift produced the worst customers in the world. Each was 'talk to the manager' types: high maintenance and generally unpleasant.

The very worst was a dad who had let his terror of a four-year-old go wild through the shop. He started his visit by setting off five decoy detonators in the potions aisle, then poured love potion into the pygmy puff enclosure, and ended it by licking the outside of the glass case full of sweets.

The kid's dad had a 'never tell your child the word no' policy in place. He made quite a stink when Ron dared to use the dreaded word to his child when the blighter sprinted around the shop and nearly toppled a full display case of fart sprays. Ron was only lucky they had left the shop by the time his meetings started.

He had to do his meetings on the sales floor, but it gave him a chance to show off a new prototype. He set the Secrecy Spellorator down and it created a field about two meters wide where no one could hear them 'plan mischief.' It even turned the volume down to noises outside the field 'so as not to distract you from your pranking plans.' Ron explained its alternative uses for Defensive magic and overcrowded offices, and given the way their eyes lit up, Ron could tell the pitch had gone well.

Now all he wanted was some beer or a long nap, neither of which he had proper time for. He needed to pick Hugo up from school and figure out something for dinner. He languidly pulled his arm up to catch the time. Ugh, five minutes more and he might be late.

He slumped up the steps, changed from business robes into his much preferred Muggle clothes, and let the dog back in, before Apparating a few streets away from Hugo's school. When he arrived, a few of the mothers were gathered and chatting about an upcoming event.

Maybe if he looked busy they wouldn't try to rope him in… He fished in his pocket for his sporadically used mobile, but realized he'd forgotten it at home.

In moments he was surrounded.

"Ron! We were just talking about you! Weren't we, Claire?"

"Yes!" she answered with an enthusiastic clap of her hands. Whenever they were talking about him it usually meant manual labour was needed. "We're doing a school fundraiser the fifteenth and could use your help setting things up. Also, could you bring your bakewell buns? We've all been simply craving them since last year!"

His brain went horribly blank of excuses, but he was saved from having to answer by his son.

"Dad!" Hugo cried from across the schoolyard, a giant grin splitting his freckled face. Ron waved at him but blanched when Hugo started running. His overly large backpack wildly swang from one hand, while his puffy jacket flailed like a flag caught in the wind from his other. Ron could see disaster looming.

"Don't run, Hugh!" Ron hollered. As if time had slowed he watched in horror as the strap of Hugo's backpack caught his foot, sending the seven-year-old flailing. Normally Ron could have prevented a painful crash with his wand, but with all the mums about him he couldn't pull his wand out in time.

Hugo face-planted straight into the ground, his giant thud pulling a chorus of high-pitched gasps from the mothers.

Ron sprinted to his son who was whimpering and not moving.

"Shhh now, you're okay, little man," Ron said, trying his best to sound calm as he removed the backpack from around Hugo's ankle and turned him over.

"Oh shit!" Ron let out. His son's large brown eyes filled with tears, and his mouth overflowed with blood. His chin looked to be split open as well. "Merlin! Er, okay, Hugh, we're gonna get you to a healer, but I need to carry you 'round the corner so the Muggle mums don't see us Apparate, okay?"

"You- you g-gotsta put a sssickle in the sssswear jar," Hugo managed to lisp, before breaking into a wail as he saw the blood hit the ground.

Ron scooped up his son, somehow managing to hold the backpack and jacket as well.

The mums all had a variety of questions as he tore down the street, but he simply yelled over his shoulder that his car was round the corner. Checking about him, he Apparated them to St Mungo's waiting room.

He vaguely recognized the lady behind the check-in desk. Her glare jogged his memory. He might've yelled at her a year or two prior…

"My- my son. He fell, and —"

Her glare softened after noticing Hugo's cries and the blood soaking through Ron's jacket. Cleared of blood by the healers Ron was infinitely grateful to not be Muggle. Chipped teeth, split lip and lacerated chin… The kid was a mess! Hugo was healed in just a few minutes, leaving him with only a small plaster for his chin he'd need with a topical 'scar-begone' potion for a few days.

"Do you have any plasters with brooms on them?" Hugo asked, feet kicking against the exam table.

The healer shook their head.

"Trains?"

"Just beige, I'm afraid," the healer said with an apologetic smile.

"Dragons?"

"Hugo, we have some at home," Ron said, knowing Hugo would continue to name things if he wasn't stopped. "Plus we have some ice cream with your name on it!"

Hugo let out a cheer. They took the Floo home, as Ron was far too tired and rattled to be Apparating with his son.

Ron and Hugo were working on their second helpings of ice cream when Hermione arrived home via Floo.

"Hello boys," she said, before stopping in her tracks. "Ice cream? Ron, it's not even five-thirty!"

"We deserve it, believe me."

"We deserve it, Mum!" Hugo repeated, with a chocolate smeared grin. "Believe me!"

Ron told her about the day they'd each had, and Hugo was happy to inform her how 'Dad hadn't put his sickle in the swear jar yet.' He also was in dire need of a better plaster for his chin.

By the end of the tale she had a cautiously amused look on her face, and went to get their boxes of plasters.

"Okay, Hugo, looks like we have trains or dragons."

"Both!"

"Choose one."

"But Mum, I deseeeerve it, believe me!" Hugo said, a pleading look on his face.

She and Ron traded smiles over his curly head.

"Just today, because you were so brave at the hospital."

"Gryffindor!" Hugo declared, before running after the dog, two plasters on his chin.

"How are you after all those adventures?" she asked, cuddling into Ron's side.

"Better now that you're home," he said, leaning down to kiss her. "You okay with ice cream for dinner?"

"Not my first choice, but I'll manage." She smiled at him. "Ginny should have Rose back from Quidditch practice soon."

"Can I feed her ice cream too?" he moaned, closing his eyes.

"You don't have to. She's eating with Ginny and the kids."

"Thank Merlin, because I feel like I've been pulled through a keyhole backwards."

"Oh, I guess that means we can't…" Hugo ran by and Hermione stopped herself. "Can't 'you know,' tonight."

"Can't… Oh right! That!"

He felt a bit chagrined that they had to schedule it ahead, but the past few weeks hadn't allowed for much spontaneity.

"Honestly…" he sighed, before looking sideways at his beautiful wife and slowly smiling. "I'll manage."

"We deserve it," she grinned.

"It'll be boring and passionless," he teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on her neck, lingering a bit too long.

She shivered in pleasure. "Of course."

"You won't even have to put a silencing spell up," he said before kissing her more deeply. "Over in five minutes."

"I'll prepare myself for the disappointment," she purred. "Twice."

"Twice?" he asked with a disbelieving look. She stared at him quite seriously before she broke and began laughing.

"Can you imagine?" she giggled.

"After the day I had?"

"On a school night?"

"Twice?!" they repeated, laughing and snorting,

There came a great crash from the other room. Hugo shouted 'I'm ok!' while Chudley barked. Ron began to get up, but Hermione pulled him back down to the couch.

"Don't forget to put a sickle in the swear jar," she said as she rose, going to check on their chaotic son.