A/N: This little short hit me about three days ago and it wouldn't leave (the naughty little bunny). I hope you enjoy this. I've always been a Molly fan and so I gave myself a little time to write something that was from her view. (Now I'll get back to chapter 14 of Come Together, I PROMISE!)

The Absence of Silence

I thought having one of the children come back and live at the house for a few days would be fun. I, was wrong. After Ginny moved out of the house a few years prior, Arthur and I settled down, albeit, uneasily, into a quieter life.

When Ron came to us and asked if we could house he and Hermione for a few days while their flat was being fumigated, I didn't realize how much I had come to welcome the silence.

They moved in on a Sunday afternoon, making as much noise as humanly possible, dragging their trunks and cases up to Ron's old room. The rest of the day was full of catching up from the last time I had seen them.

After what seemed like hours, they called it a night and went to bed.

But the real fun started the next morning. They both began to get ready for work and by six thirty they were rushing around the burrow like two mini tornadoes.

"Hermione! Have you seen my file from the Salinder/Pritchett case?! I sat it on the night table last evening and now I can't find it!" Ron was yelling up the stairs as Pigwidgeon chased Crookshanks around the kitchen table where I sat, sipping tea, and marveling at the whirlwind that was my son and his wife.

Hermione came sweeping down the stairs, donning a robe and dripping hair that she was carefully toweling dry. She was a beauty, there was no doubt about that, even in her ratty white robe I couldn't help but be a bit envious at her youth. She would age well like all Weasley women. I say so modestly of course.

"Ron, you took that file into the livingroom this morning so that you wouldn't forget it. Look at you, come here." Hermione threw her towel over the nearest chair and proceeded to fuss at Ron's tie. She straightened it, untied it, retied it and straightened it again along with his collar.

"Hermione, I am going to be late."

She smiled, "You're right, I need to get ready too, hurry, you have a trial today."

Ron was a lawyer at the Ministry in the department of magical law.

Hermione rushed up the stairs, leaving Ron to retrieve the file in question, shove it into his portfolio, pull the toast he'd made from the counter and take a huge bite.

"Ron, don't shovel, you'll choke." Hermione rushed back down the steps, her cloak in hand, she was a moderator for magical creature organizations at the Ministry.

There was an unintelligible mumble of agreement from Ron and then the real fun began.

For a solid ten minutes or so, the two of them tried to get ready for the working world in a space uncomfortable for more than one adult and a small child. Ron, with his toast hanging precariously out of his mouth, opened the hall closet, removed his cloak and threw it over Hermione's on the kitchen chair. Hermione was trying to gather both of her 'sensible' shoes, but was failing miserably, mumbling to herself as she crawled under the table to take an up-close and personal look at the floor. Ron, while looking for his cufflinks, reached under the ottoman and found Hermione's other shoe. Swallowing the last of his toast, he walked over to Hermione, tapped her bum with his toe, causing her to hit her head on the under side of the table and yell his name scornfully. She sat back on her haunches, rubbing her head and reprimanding him, but then he held her shoe in front of her face and she grinned at his silent teasing. He helped her up off the floor and they both started moving full throttle again. He stuffed a last envelope into his folio and moved it over next the their cloaks, spinning backwards to dodge her as she attempted, in vain, to catch and cage that ruddy owl. Ron, jumping around on one leg, while trying to shove a foot into his shoe, almost knocked over a nick-knack shelf, but Hermione, the quickest wand-hand I'd ever seen, promptly drew her wand and reversed the disaster in motion. Ron looked at her in gratitude and she quickly ran upstairs to get something last-minute.

Ron, fully clothed and (amazingly) shoed, gave Crookshanks a little push off of their cloaks which she had nestled into. He picked his off of the pile and it swooshed as it fell, nicely over his shoulders. Hermione walked back downstairs, setting her satchel bag down and turning, close to Ron as he set her cloak on her shoulders. Up until this moment, they had seemed a bit detached from each other despite the shoe incident. But, as she fastened the clasp and he smoothed it over her shoulders, something new was revealed. The familiarity. It was the essence of a gesture that had been performed thousands of times over the years. Hermione turned around and smiled at Ron. There seemed to be no one else in the room.

"You look lovely today, Hermione." Ron said, cupping her face in his hand.

"You say that every morning. I'm beginning to think it's become an automatic response." A hint of amusement framed her sentence.

"No, I'm just constantly enamored with your face."

She smiled easily as if this was an everyday conversation to have in front of your mother-in-law. "Now THAT was a compliment I can be proud of Mr.Weasley."

"I love you Mrs. Weasley." he said, smiling at her.

"I love you too, you great sap." she hit his arm and reached down to grasp his hand.

Then, she brought her mouth to his in an extremely chaste, yet inherently intimate kiss. It lingered only a moment longer than expected and then they broke apart.

"Be careful Ron, don't work yourself into a fit over this case." she patted his arm and pulled out her wand.

"You do the same, will you woman?" he grinned and pulled his own wand.

"Goodbye mum." Ron acknowledged me and I waved a bit as he and Hermione both disapparated into thin air, leaving behind them the slightest impression, for just a second which lingered in the place where they had just been standing.

I took a sip of my tea and smiled. If time with Ron and Hermione meant living with a few days of noise, then I could do that.

The quiet could wait.

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