A/N: If you can't tell after reading this chapter, I'm suffering from severe writer's block. But I'm trying to work through it.

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You Know What They Say About Good Intentions

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Romance. I can do that. I'm Fred Weasley after all. I wasn't called 'Hot Lips' for a month during fifth year for nothing.

Unfortunately for me, I can't exactly have a romantic interlude with Hermione while the kids are here. But that does give me time to plan. And elaborate, ingenious plots are my forte after all.

Hm. But what should I do?

The romantic dinner is out. A trip is out. There's no way I could get away right now. And Hermione has always had to put in at least two months notice to get time off. A weekend to ourselves might work, but finding someone to watch the kids might be a problem. My parents are getting ready to go to Romania to visit Charlie and Stella and Hermione's Mum and Dad are on a cruise to the Mediterranean. And everybody else we know has kids of their own. I'm sure any member of my family wouldn't mind watching them, but I wouldn't feel right about it.

So I'm stuck. No dinner, no trip. Gifts won't work. Hermione can't be bribed. Believe me, I've tried. When she's angry no amount of jewelry or flowers or chocolate will help. Neither will bribing of the physical variety.

What now?

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I decided to start by showing Hermione that she wasn't an obligation for me. The easiest way to do that, I figured, was to be at home more. And to do more around the house. So that night I did something I hadn't done in almost two years.

I made dinner. After a day with her parents, I'm sure Hermione would love to come home and not have to cook. Hey, it's a start.

I had just finished setting the table when I heard voices coming from the living room. Hermione walked into the kitchen looking frazzled. The kids were still talking at the tops of their lungs, and she shook her head in impatience.

Hermione stopped dead at the sight of me setting the table. She looked curiously at the oven, where the bread was still baking. Well, warming up.

"You made dinner?" she asked incredulously.

I nodded.

"Why?"

I shrugged. "Why not? I was home, and I figured you had a long day. Just trying to do something nice."

She paused for a moment, considering my words. "You didn't conjure it, did you?"

"No." I huffed grumpily.

She smiled slightly. "No need to get defensive. Just curious?"

She walked over and peered into the bowls sitting on the table. Beef stew. Salad. Nothing fancy, but it worked.

"You haven't cooked in I don't know how long." she said, eyeing me suspiciously. "What did you do?"

My jaw dropped. Not sure why. It was a pretty fair question under normal circumstances.

"Nothing." I replied. She studied me, looking for the tell-tell signs of lying. "Honest."

"Okay."

"You sit and I'll go get the kids." I told her. She obliged, and I made sure to kiss her on top of the head on my way into the living room.

Dinner was relatively uneventful. The kids chattered on about their day with their grandparents. I told them about the new line of Muggle magic tricks George had insisted we stock. Hermione was unusually quiet. More than anything she seemed to be studying me. Observing the way I was interacting with the kids.

I felt a little insulted.

But I made sure to be nothing but sweet toward her and act as besotted as ever. I was trying to convince her I loved her after all.

And if my cleaning up everything by myself didn't convince her, then it was a lost cause.

After dinner, the kids wanted to play Exploding Snap. We settled around the fire and played five games while Hermione read on the couch. That was the way it used to be all the time. You couldn't walk into our house without seeing me and Hermione doing something with one or more of the kids. The last time we were all together like this had to be Maddie's eleventh birthday. Over two years ago.

A little before nine, Hermione began getting Roxie ready for bed. An hour later it was Noah's turn. I put away the game and began turning the lights out. In the kitchen Hermione caught up with me.

"What are you doing?" she asked, leaning against the doorway.

"Turning out the lights." I said.

"Why? It's only a little after ten."

"So? I'm ready for bed." I explained.

She eyed me critically. "Ready for bed? Or hoping that maybe…" she trailed off.

I will admit that I blushed a bit. "Well, I wouldn't say no."

She smiled softly. "Would you be upset if I said I'm not really in the mood?"

I could feel myself deflate a bit. "A little disappointed, but I'll live."

There was no expression on her face, so I had no idea if this was the right thing to say or not. We just stood there for a few more seconds until she turned off the remaining light and held her hand out toward me.

I took it, and we made our way up to our room. We got ready for bed, easily falling into the old routine we developed during our first year of marriage. Once under the covers, Hermione rolled over onto her side, facing away from me.

I was about to admit a momentary defeat when she spoke up. "Fred, did you mean what you said this morning?"

"Every word."

When she made no further attempts at communication, I scooted over to snuggle up behind her, sliding my arm around her waist. She didn't react at first. Then she placed her hand over mine on her stomach, entwining our fingers. With a huge grin on my face I fell asleep faster than I had in a long time.

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For the first time in I don't know how long, Hermione and I both woke up in the same bed together. Unfortunately, it was Monday and that meant work. No taking advantage of the fact that neither of us were waking up alone.

It was starting to get old. I'm a man. A married man and I have needs.

But to tell my wife that would be akin to committing suicide. I couldn't let her think I was pushing. I needed her to know that I truly loved her.

However, being that I woke up before six on Tuesday morning, I figured I could indulge myself-I mean us-a little.

Hermione was asleep on her stomach, with her head facing toward me. I kissed her cheek lightly. She stirred and peered up at me. "Fred…it's not even six o'clock yet."

I grinned despite myself. "I know. Perfect opportunity." I kissed her cheek again, then moved down her jaw line to the bit of neck exposed by her pajama top.

She rolled away and sat up. "Fred…" she complained.

"What? I've missed you." I tucked a stray hand behind her ear.

"This isn't going to work." she said defiantly.

"What's not going to work?"

"When I said priority I didn't mean sex. I'd like to think there's more to our relationship than that." she stated. Well, Hermione's always been blunt.

"Can I help it if I'd occasionally like to sleep with my wife?" I demanded. "I happen to love you, and if I can't express that love…"

I was cut off for that was when Hermione whacked me in the face with a pillow and stalked off to the bathroom.

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"Hi Daddy."

I looked up at the voice and saw Maddie walking into the shop. I grinned. Even though Hogwarts is so close I don't get to see her as much as I'd like.

"What re you doing here?" I asked, coming around the counter to hug her.

"I got a letter from Roxie his morning." she explained. "She said you and Mum have been fighting a lot lately."

"It's not that bad." I insisted.

"Daddy, you can tell me." she said. She took off her cloak and hopped up onto the counter. Luckily, we weren't open yet. Sunday's are the best when you need to sleep in.

"I asked Noah, and he said Mum's been giving you the silent treatment for almost a week."

I looked at my daughter, sitting on the counter like she did when she was little, in her Gryffindor robes and dark red hair falling around her shoulders. I should be the one giving her advice. That is if Hermione would let me.

"You know me. I just did something stupid. But she'll forgive me. She always does." I assured her.

She didn't look convinced, so I changed the subject. "Why are you wearing your robes on a Sunday?"

She grimaced. "Some people from the ministry are coming today. McGonagall wants us all to look our best."

"Just be thankful she's not head of Gryffindor anymore."

"But she's headmistress." Maddie whined.

"How'd you talk her into letting you come into town by yourself?"

She squirmed around uncomfortably, determinedly avoiding my eyes.. "You snuck out, didn't you?"

She smiled weakly.

"That's my girl."

She hopped off the counter. "Need some help?"

Not with the store. But maybe with something else…"

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