Hermione was upset again.

Ron could tell by how she hauled herself up from the floor as soon as she arrived at home. The second sign was the grunt she gave him as she walked past where he was sitting, reading the Daily Prophet quietly on the sofa.

"Good evening, love. How are you?" He lowered the paper enough, just in time to see the scathing look she threw him before leaving the room.

Instantly, his brain starts to run through the list of things he tries to avoid doing to keep his wife happy. He doesn't deserve her apathetic greeting; he's pretty sure of that.

His latest mission kept him away from the house for five days, meaning all of the housework and looking after the children landed firmly at her feet. But Ron had made sure to send his Patronus home every night to let Hermione know that he was safe, and they had more than made up for his absence as soon as he got home in the early hours of yesterday morning.

Plus, he'd roped his mum and Angelina in to help out a little bit more than usual, just so that Hermione could keep her sanity.

Knowing that she had a busy caseload at the moment, Ron had spent most of his day, apart from when he wasn't keeping his eye on their two very active toddlers, cleaning every corner of the house. The babies had been fed, bathed and were already in bed. Dinner was waiting for Hermione in the kitchen, under a warming charm. He'd even cooked her favourite meal as a treat.

Ron had done everything she had asked of him, so it hurt to see her walk past him with such a hateful look in her eyes. The sound of her footsteps stomping up the stairs bounced around his head, and he let out a breath, reminding himself that sometimes, it's not about him.

Slowly, he folded his paper up, making sure to take his time to allow her a moment to blow off the last of her steam. When he thought she had enough time, he pushed himself up from the sofa with a groan and followed up.

He pushed open the door to their bedroom tentatively. "Hermione?" He kept his voice quiet. The last thing they needed is for the children to wake up.

She stared out the window. "Don't, Ron."

"Bad day at the office?"

She turned around quickly on her heel. The look on her face reminded Ron of a seventeen-year-old Hermione, who was so brilliantly angry, she conjured up yellow birds out of nowhere to attack him. He was still recovering from that, although he never held it against her. People did stupid things when they were teenagers and in love.

"My day was brilliant. But then I was waiting for the floo home, and I caught a glimpse of the Daily Prophet. Suddenly, my day got a whole lot worse."

The realisation hit Ron like a ton of bricks. He glanced at the paper still folded in his hand. He'd been reading it earlier with great interest because there was an article smack in the middle of the front page about his and Harry's latest mission. The pair of Senior Aurors, along with their fantastic team, had cracked a Muggle smuggling ring. The wizards involved were using women as—well, it wasn't even worth Ron thinking about. It was disgusting, and it was probably going to take a lot of therapy to help stop the nightmares.

With the article was a picture of Ron and one of the muggles they had rescued. He flipped the paper to the right page. Over and over again, the woman threw her an arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. He hadn't even noticed the tagline when he first skim-read it earlier.

Member of the Golden Trio caught in the arms of someone else?

Ron scoffed. He didn't enjoy being reduced to only a member of the Golden Trio, no matter how proud of the group's achievements he is. He's his own man, and he's worked hard over the years to create a name from himself away from the battle against Voldemort.

"She was just thanking me because I rescued her, love!" Ron threw the paper aside and stepped cautiously towards her.

"But she's blonde and skinny and — ugh! How could you not be tempted by that?" She avoided his gaze.

Ron chuckled. Although Hermione wasn't usually worried about her appearance, the further up the Ministry ranks she got, the more her concerns manifested outwardly. Sure, she wasn't as slim as she'd been when they were teenagers, but who was? She'd given birth to two chunky Weasley babies and had achieved an amazing amount in the small amount of time she'd been working at the Ministry.

"Hey. Look at me?" He placed one hand on her shoulder and waited for her to lift her head. He made sure he was gazing into her beautiful chocolate brown eyes when he spoke his next words. "I'm yours, and nobody can change that. Not even some stupid journalist. Plus, it's pretty unethical for me to sleep with someone I just rescued."

"Do you promise?"

He ran his thumb under her eye to remove the one tear still lingering. "Of course. Anyway, I don't like blondes."

"But Lav—"

Ron silenced her with a kiss, trying to put all his longing and desire for her into it. He adores her— he always has, and it surprises him how much more he falls in love with her every day. He just wishes she could see herself the way that he does.