DISCLAIMER: I WISH I owned Ron and Hermione.

Domestic Bliss.

Nothing was ever a scene of domestic bliss in the Weasley house. :Oneshot RHr, because nothing, not even JKR, can kill this ship:

Nothing was ever a scene of domestic bliss in the Weasley house.

Ron was nothing if not determined to never wake up on time. While his wife was without fail always the first awake – sometimes even before their children! – (how? How does she do it), Ron would very often hear the alarm go off with its obnoxious beeping, before smacking it with a hand and promptly going back to sleep. The routine would begin five minutes later, when it would once again go off, this time yelling at him in a voice very much like his wife's: get up, you lazy arse, or no coffee for you!

By the time he would make it down the stairs, the other inhabitants of their small, cosy home on the outskirts of Greater London would already be up and thriving. Six-year-old Rose would be wolfing down her porridge, rambling non-stop about all the exciting things she was going to learn at school that day. Four-year-old Hugo would most likely be wearing his breakfast, rather than eating it, throwing odd pieces at his sister, in amongst singing wrong song lyrics incredibly loudly along with the wireless.

And in amongst the chaos would sit Hermione Weasley.

Instead of bursting in like he normally would every morning before work, Ron paused. Leaning in the kitchen doorway, he watched his family for a moment, a smile slowly working up his face. Sat at the head of the table and with her unruly (gorgeous) hair thrown up in a bun, Hermione somehow managed to keep the peace between their children, read that morning's newspaper, and also manage to not burn her toast all at once. Of course, she was already dressed, ready to take on whatever the world threw at her today.

His wife really was a superwoman.

"Mum – Mummy – don't you think Mrs Carter will teach us long division today?" Rose was saying excitedly, tugging on Hermione's sleeve. "I reckon so–"

"Rosie, darling, I'm afraid that long division isn't usually taught until you are much older," Hermione answered, gently.

At that, Rose's small face turned red with so many conflicting emotions. Oh, the love of school and wanting to please her teacher, verses wanting to learn everything there was to know now. "But – but – I want to learn it NOW!" she cried.

"Haha, Rosie's dumb!" Hugo chimed in, grinning cheekily.

"MUM!"

"Hugo, you do not even go to school," Hermione pointed out, smirking over the top of her newspaper. "I'd think carefully before you say your sister is 'dumb'."

"Aw," Hugo grumbled, folding his arms in a huff. Naturally, when this didn't get him any attention, Ron saw the spoon move in a flash and instantly knew that there was going to be –

"MUMMYYYYY!" Rose screamed when the glob of porridge went straight into her red curls. "HUGO, I'M GONNA GET YOU!"

Naturally, this resulted in an all-out war, starting with Hugo screaming and leaping from his chair as Rose actually stood up and jumped across the table in her attempts to beat up her brother. Porridge went flying from both sides of the table, yet Hermione didn't even bother look up. Raising a cup of coffee to her lips, Ron decided that now was probably the time to intervene, entering the kitchen and making his way over. Along the way, he grabbed his daughter around the waist and hauled her with him under his arm, before pausing behind Hermione's chair and bending to kiss her lightly on top of her head.

"I see that still nothing can deter you from a good read," he said cheerfully against her hair.

"DADDY, PUT ME DOWN!" Rose was shrieking from his arms, her flailing legs lashing out and almost ripping her mother's newspaper. Hermione instinctively moved it out of the way as she turned and grinned up at him.

"Oh, certainly today's headlines are interesting," she told him. Ron knew that tone; she was pretending to sound nonchalant, but the spark in her eyes said that she was totally secretly amused.

"Would you like to take Rosie, or shall I?"

"Seeing as you already have her in your arms, I think I might take our son today," Hermione answered, standing and going in search of the younger sibling. While there were several hiding places that he could certainly get himself into (and quite impressively, Ron might add; they once found him in the top cupboard of the kitchen!) today, Hugo had opted for cowering under the table. While Hermione coaxed him out, Ron took the still kicking and screaming Rose through into the lounge, dumping her lightly on the sofa next to him.

"Soooooo, what's up, Rosie-Posie?" he asked.

Rose was almost crying with her anger and in response, she just stayed silent. Ron tried to keep his face serious for his daughter's sake, but sometimes, when he would see her like this, he was always so reminded of himself when he was younger. Passionate and quick to fire, Ron worried that she would make one hell of a temperamental teenager when she was older! But luckily, she had her mother's clear desire for learning in her to balance it out. She was certainly smart enough.

From experience, Ron knew that Rose would speak eventually. He simply lifted her up onto his lap, cuddling her gently until her angry sniffles turned into a softer and calmer tone. When Rose looked up, Ron saw a younger version of Hermione's face, currently screwed up and red, with his own blue eyes still watery.

He kind of loved that she was the perfect mix of both of them. Well. Maybe not perfect (now if she had her mother's common sense and didn't have his temper, then it might be perfect) but it was still clear that she was definitely part Weasley, part Granger.

"Daddy, I hate my brother," she said, forcefully.

"And why's that?" he asked.

"Because!" Rose cried. "He's annoying and he doesn't like me and he's always messing with my things and I don't want him to start school next year!"

"Hmmm," Ron mused. "Rosie, do you really think that Hugo doesn't like you?"

"He's mean," Rose mumbled into his chest. "That means he doesn't like me. Every dummy knows that."

"Oh, dear," Ron found himself wanting to choke down a laugh. "Darling, I'm afraid you have a lot to learn!"

"Learn?" Naturally, she perked up at that, glancing up at him once more. "I want to learn! Tell me!"

"Well, this might get a bit confusing," Ron said, grinning. "If you don't get it now, you definitely will when you're older. But sometimes, people are mean to you because they like you."

Rose stared at him for so long, he could almost imagine those little cogs whirring inside her brain. How often had he seen that look on Hermione's face? Apparently, this proved to be too much of a concept for Rose to handle, because she soon burst out,

"But that doesn't make ANY sense!"

Ron did laugh then, kissing his daughter's head. "Hugo looks up to you," he told her. "You're his big sister. He wants all of your attention and for you to like him. He's too little to understand that he should be nice to you to get you to like him."

"So … he's mean instead?" Rose asked.

Ron nodded. "As far as Hugo thinks, if he's mean to you, that means you are paying attention to him," Sensing his daughter getting lost, Ron thought for another moment before the natural example came to mind. "Rosie, do you remember how your mummy and I sometimes fight a lot?"

Rose nodded. The memory of her tear-stained face at the top of the stairs was practically seared into the backs of his eyes, from a night almost six months ago. Hermione had been in the middle of a huge case at work and while Ron was used to her working long hours, he had grown more and more stressed the longer she didn't come home. One night, she didn't arrive until after midnight, and they had ended up in a screaming match that lasted well into the early hours of the morning. Around four a.m., they we were both crying and Hermione had thrown her arms around him and he was muttering, sorry, sorry, sorry, into her hair. They hadn't realised that, though they yelled with hushed voices, they'd still accidentally woken Rose.

Her timid voice asking if they were splitting up had almost broken him.

This certainly hadn't been their first fight (Ron couldn't even remember their first fight – was it their falling out during third-year, or did all their arguing when they were eleven still count?) but it was Rose's first time accidentally experiencing it. She had learnt a lot that night, and Ron had hoped that she'd eventually fallen asleep wedged in between her parents knowing that despite their arguments, her mummy and daddy loved each other very much.

Maybe she would get this?

"Well," Ron brought himself back to his daughter's curious face. "When we were little, about Teddy's age, I used to be really mean to your mummy."

Rose's eyes went wide with shock. "WHAT?" she said. "Why, Daddy?"

"Because," Ron answered. "I really liked her."

"But that doesn't make sense," Rose insisted, in that tone she always used when her six-year-old logic was questioned.

"Ah! You might think so," Ron said, cheerfully. "but you see, I didn't know how to make her like me as well. I kept saying the wrong thing and making her mad at me. But guess what?"

"What?"

"When she was mad at me, she was paying attention to me," Ron pointed out. "and I liked it when she was paying attention to me."

"Ohhhh …" Rose was still looking quizzical, but Ron hoped that something might be digging into her little brain somewhere.

"Exactly," Ron said, touching her nose lightly, making her giggle. "So in the end, I started making her mad on purpose."

"Because you wanted to be her friend!"

"That's right!" Ron said and Rose's face lit up with an epiphany.

"So when people are mean to you, that means they actually like you!" Rose cried.

"You're really starting to get this, Rosie," Ron said, proudly.

Rose was getting excited now, what with this new information under her belt. Ron hoped that Mrs Carter would be thankful; now, Rose wouldn't be pestering her to teach long division all day. Rose climbed to her knees in her father's lap, leaning up so she could look Ron straight in the eye.

"So," she said, with a determined nod of her head. "Hugo actually wants to be my friend."

"Yep."

"So all the people who are mean to me at school, because I'm smarter than them, they want to be my friend, too?"

"Ah," Ron now saw the problem in his lesson. "Well, that's a bit difficult, Rosie – they are probably mean because they wish they were as smart as you–"

"And Scorpius in my class!" Rose ploughed on like she hadn't heard. "He must like me, too!"

"Whoa, ok–!" There was a definite flaw in his logic now, if Rose was starting to get into her head that little Scorpius Malfoy actually wanted to be her friend. If anything, he had been encouraging their little feud! (Which normally included things like hair-pulling, puddle-pushing, and refusing to share sharpeners and rulers with each other). Ron had no idea why Draco Malfoy thought it would be a good idea to put his son in primary school in the first place. He was certain the git had chosen the same school on purpose!

"Look, Rosie–" he began, hastily.

"Ron, Rose?" Hermione's voice called then from the kitchen, interrupting him. She stood in the doorway, Hugo holding her hand, and she smiled before continuing, "Hugo has something he would like to say to Rose."

Rose clambered off his lap as Hugo hesitantly shuffled forward with his mother's encouragement. The two siblings blinked at each other for a moment, until Hugo eventually mumbled,

"I'm sorry for teasing you."

"That's ok!" Rose said, brightly. "I know you just want to be my friend!"

Hugo, not to mention Hermione, looked utterly bewildered at this statement. This expression became even more so when Rose took Hugo by the hand and said, "Come on! You can help me get ready for school and I will help you get ready for nursery! You know how to tie shoes, right …?" Her voice trailed off as she dragged Hugo out of the room.

Hermione stared after them in shock. "What is god's name did you tell that girl?" she asked, eyes wide.

"A lesson in pulling pigtails," Ron admitted, standing and moving towards his wife. Still facing the doorway, Ron hugged her from behind tightly, managing to tug a smile from her face. "Only, I think I might have taught it too well."

"Meaning?"

"She is now under the impression that Scorpius Malfoy is a lovely human being," Ron said in distaste, pulling back so Hermione could turn around in his arms. She let her hands link behind his neck, looking up at him in amusement.

"While I appreciate the life lesson," she told him. "It is now your fault if they end up married."

"Don't even joke!"

Hermione laughed, before leaning forward and resting her head against his chest. They were silent for a few moments, standing together and listening to the sounds coming from upstairs, Rose's happy voice floating down from their bedrooms.

"… no, no, these shoes are much better …"

"You know, the newspaper had some interesting new rumours to report," Hermione said then, once again pretending to sound unaffected.

"Oh, really?" Ron asked.

"Oh, yes," Hermione answered, looking up at him. "According to the latest sources, I'm having an affair with Harry."

"Wow," Ron commented. "Hermione, I'm shocked! How long as this been going on?"

"Ron, I'm so sorry, but at least a year," Hermione said, shaking her head and tightening her grip around his neck. "Please, I didn't mean it – tell me you'll forgive me?"

"Oh, god, I just don't know …" Ron had to ponder the conundrum.

"It was a mistake!" Hermione cried with a dramatic flair that Ron was rather impressed to see. "See, since you and I are apparently in marriage counselling, I thought that must mean that our vows that we said eight years ago must mean nothing! And since I've always been close to Harry, he was clearly the only option."

"Ah, I see," Ron was really trying hard not to laugh. It wasn't made easy with Hermione slowly moving closer and closer to him in her desperation, mirth in her eyes. "In that case, we cannot fix this! I must divorce you."

Hermione gasped. "Fine!" she cried, flinging her arms into the air just centimetres from his face. "Harry and I will just elope to France, like we are apparently secretly plotting! I never loved you anyway!"

She pretended to storm off, but Ron couldn't keep up the charade any longer. He reached out and tugged on her wrist, suddenly yanking her back into his arms … and pressing his lips to hers, hard. With two young children, moments like these were often scarce, and they both took advantage of the small amount of time they had. Hermione's arms went back around his neck, as he pulled her waist closer, all the emotions from his past pouring out into that one kiss.

He had never meant be to so mean to her when they first met. But how else does an eleven-year-old try and get an amazing girl's attention?

"I love you …" he murmured against her lips.

Hermione smiled, pulling back. He reluctantly let her step out of his arms, when they both heard two sets of thundering feet running down the stairs, Rose and Hugo's voices shrieking louder. "DAD, guess what?" Hugo yelled excitedly, skidding into the lounge and running straight into Ron's legs, nearly making him topple over backwards. "Rose showed me how I can be nice to her!"

"Well, that was really good of her," Ron answered him.

Just before they were forced to get back into their swing of morning routines, Hermione turned and caught Ron's eye. Over the racket of their children, she mouthed to him,

"I love you, too."

Ron grinned in response. He had to find out if Harry had seen the newspaper that morning. He had a feeling that his best mate might just vomit at the thought.

Fin

A/N: So when I first read that interview with JKR about Ron and Hermione, I think I cried. Then I got angry. I felt genuinely betrayed, and I wallowed in misery for an entire day, wondering how JKR could do this to me, to us!

Then, I went online and looked up RHr fanart to placate myself. And some responses were hilarious. One piece, by Catching-Smoke on Deviantart (found here: /art/Response-to-JKR-431610451) inspired me to write this. Because, I'm sorry, JKR, but no matter what you say, it's going to be canon and I am ALWAYS going to ship RHr! Don't EVEN get me started on why HHr would never in a million years work!

So review if you agree! Or, y'know, liked the story, I mean.

Until next time -

- Moon. :D

PS. Hey! Would you look at that! I wrote an actual oneshot for a change!