A/N: So, this is officially the last chapter, because I don't want to ruin this fic. I hope you all enjoyed this, thanks to everyone who has reviewed and given me their input.
Disclaimer: For the last time, I don't own HP!!!
"RON! Rose! Hugo! Hurry up, we don't want to be late!" Hermione stood in the kitchen, impatient. They were all going to be tardy to the Weasley family's Sunday supper if they didn't hurry. She hated that she seemed to be the only one in this family with a sense of time. Rose may have inherited her brains, but she certainly had inherited her father's gift of belatedness, to say nothing of Hugo.
"Mummy, I can't find my H jumper," Hugo complained, running down the stairs. "I think Rose nicked it."
"What would I want your manky old jumper for anyway?" Rose whined, close behind. Her hair was just as wild as Hermione's had been growing up, and Hermione affectionately smoothed down her hair in the back.
"I don't know, but you took it," he grumbled. His Weasley ears flashed red with anger as he crossed his arms.
"Rose, Hugo, stop fighting," Hermione scolded. "And where is your father?"
"I don't know," Rose said unhelpfully, and Hugo shrugged as well.
Moments later, Ron slipped into the kitchen. Hermione was holding the flower pot full of Floo powder, looking as harried and out of control as all those nights back in Hogwarts when she was busy studying for her O.W.L.s.
"Ronald, come on, we're going to be late!" she scolded him, much like she had the children. She hated to be late anywhere, and still couldn't figure out why Ron didn't know that about her after all these years.
"Alright, 'Mione, alright," he groaned. She nagged nearly as his mum, always had. "I don't see why we always have to go to the Burrow for Sunday supper…"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because we need to spend time with your family, Ronald! They miss us. We don't spend nearly as much time with them as we ought to, and besides, Harry and Ginny will be there. Rose and Hugo need to spend time with their cousins."
"Yeah!" Rose chimed in. "I need to tell Lily a secret," she said mysteriously. Hugo just rolled his eyes.
"C'mon, let's go," he said, clearly exasperated, and grabbed a handful of Floo powder in his small fist. "The Burrow!" he said loudly and clearly, having heard his Uncle Harry's story about his misadventures into Knockturn Alley one time too many. He disappeared in a swirl of green flames, and Rose repeated the process moments later.
Ron and Hermione were alone, something Ron took advantage of. These moments were far and few between lately, and though Rose would soon be leaving for her first year at Hogwarts, Hugo was sure to be attached at the hip with them until it was his turn to take a ride on the Hogwarts Express.
Ron swept Hermione into his arms before she could grab her fistful of Floo powder, crushing his lips to hers.
"Mmm, what was that?" she asked, looking puzzled. "We have to go-"
He frowned at her. "Are you complaining that I kissed you?"
"Well no, it's just they're waiting…"
"Let them wait," he said, still holding on to her tight. "I want a few moments to be with my beautiful wife."
Hermione blushed slightly. "When did you become so romantic?"
"If you haven't noticed, I have my moments from time to time," he smirked. "The good old fashioned Weasley charm."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Right," she drawled out.
"No, no, it's true. I've had you wrapped around my finger for a good long time."
"You weren't so cocky back then," she laughed. "Look what time has done to you." She traced his jaw, loving the rough stubble she felt beneath her fingers. Ron had matured, his body hardened with age and his job as an Auror. He had never looked more handsome to her as he did now, the father of her children, her perpetual friend and lover, and the best husband anyone could ever ask for, even when he frustrated her to no end.
He explored her body, too, loving her curves, and kissing her deeply.
"OK, now we really need to go," she said after a long moment. "Your parents are going to think that we're shagging."
"Would that really be so horrible?" he teased.
"No, but we can leave that for later," she said. "Come ON!"
They each picked up a handful of powder, Hermione going first.
The Burrow was full of Weasleys and Potters, everyone warm, and happy, and well fed. This was how it was always supposed to be, together as a unit, strong, happy, and together. Despite all his complaining about not wanting to be here, Ron was happy. He looked around the kitchen and was content, not for the first time in his life, though it was a sensation he never took for granted. Hermione slipped her hand in his under the table and squeezed gently.
They'd all finally found peace in life.