I sit bolt upright in bed, my palms clammy, my heart pounding. Shite, it's Tuesday! And I'm late! Ruddy panicked, I look over to see that Hermione's asleep and running late as well. Why in Merlin's name didn't we set the alarm? What was going through our - I throw myself out of bed and the freezing air hits me, making me curl into a tight ball before I force myself to uncurl, gather up my wand, and renew the Inflamare in the hearth.

"Hermione! Hermione, quick! Get up! It's - " I hear a soft jingling and look down at Hermione's feet to see that Crookshanks is scratching, the jingle bell on his Christmas collar beating in rhythm with his right back foot. "Oi." Yeah, so I catch on. Finally. "It's Christmas." Realizing that I don't have to be up in the frozen air, I yank up the blanket and slide back under quickly. Used to be I wanted to be out of bed as fast as possible on Christmas morning. Must be when you get older that you suddenly see the benefits of staying in it.

I'm sure my feet and hands feel half frozen by now, but I squirm my way over to Hermione's warm spot - the edge anyway - and try to thaw them all out without touching her. Can't imagine she'd appreciate the way they feel right now.

A muffled scream tells me that I didn't succeed. "Ron, this is not the way I wanted to be woken up on Christmas morning." She gives me a glare and snuggles back under the covers. "What time is it anyway?" ( Hermione'sSurprise )

Blimey. Bloody stupid Williamson. Just because he's got nowhere to go and no family to spend Christmas Eve with, he's got no problem keeping me late to give me a full training on the parchment work form for requesting a shipment of evidence. As if I ruddy well cared tonight, when I already have one other stop to make on the way home, and when being late's going to get me in trouble with my wife and make me mental.

But I'm finally done, I've wished him a grudging "Happy Christmas", and rushed for the door in case he suddenly decides he's found something else urgent that can't wait until we're on call Friday or until after New Year's.

I let Hermione know I'm going to be a little late getting there, then one short shopping stop later, I'm headed home.( PresentfromRyan )

"How much longer, you reckon?" I ask Hermione, knowing that I'm risking either no answer at all or an answer likely to take my head off. She's been in our library at the cottage since right after breakfast, putting together her presentation for work on starting her own project. I know how much it means to her, but Merlin's sparkly pants, it's Saturday and one of the days I'm supposed to get her to myself. Right?

She looks up at me and smirks. "You're lucky that the baby seems to be laying on my bladder and I'm due for a trip to the loo." She stands up and stretches her back out a bit. "Sometimes I wish this cottage had electricity. Having a computer would be nice."

"One of those little box things? For what? We've got magic," I say. I think about what she's just told me and wonder how in the world any of that answers my question. "And how does it make me lucky that you need another trip to the loo?" I watch the back of her disappear into the loo and then the door closes behind her. ( AllJoLeft )

I jolt awake and panic for a moment about how late I am for work, then I realize...it's the weekend and I don't even have to be awake yet. With that disgusting thought, I decide to go back to sleep, roll over, and then lay there with eyes wide open for at least fifteen minutes. Apparently Hermione's brain knows it's the weekend - hers is still fast asleep, right along with the rest of her.

I finally decide that sleep's not gonna happen any more right now. I'd really love to wrap myself around Hermione and see if that'd help, but I know it would disturb her, at least momentarily. Besides, all sort of work stuff is flying through my brain by now and I reckon there's nothing for it but to just get up. ( SundayGuacamole )

Bloody hell. Bloody sodding hell.

I drag my feet slowly up the dirt road from High Street, trudging up to the cottage in the middle of the morning. At least I had the sense to take off my Auror robes so people wouldn't think I was on duty and ask for help or anything. Then I'd really have to explain why I couldn't possibly help them.

Damn! Of all the stupid, idiotic...I can't believe I let scumbag little Ferret Face get to me that way, and then took it out on Williamson besides. I've been an Auror - what - three months? And already I buy myself a suspension?( Cursing )

"Five minutes, Williamson, that's all! Think they can live without us for five more minutes?" I demand.

"Depends on what happens in those five minutes, rookie," he replies smugly.

While I know he's probably right, I have to get to Hermione and make sure everything's all right with her. Plus I need to let her know I won't be home for a while - if at all - tonight. What fucked-up timing for this to happen.
( Halloween Night )

After Williamson and I get the call to the Crystal Chamber and I sent that quick message to Hermione, he and I Apparate into the middle of the place back to back, as trained, ready for action. As soon as I focus in the dark, I see the evil, grinning face of Bellatrix LeStrange just before I hear her signature peals of insane laughter ring from the walls. That night she tried to kill Hermione and me flashes into my brain and Willie and I both swing our wands around to point. Just then we see her like a shadow on the air as she Apparates away with her cronies.

The pain in my shoulder shoots from my spine to my elbow and I curse that idiot Slytherin Chaser for plowing me out of the way to go for the goal. Spinning around, I throttle my way up underneath him, jamming the front of my broomstick into his and tipping him away, but not before he gets the Quaffle on its way. I reach out to knock it down and - ( Adventures )

Hmmm. Sunday morning. Meaning I have to go back to work tomorrow. But also meaning that if I try very,very hard maybe I can put off thinking about it another few hours and pretend it's still Saturday. Sitting on the couch, I close my eyes and think. Yeah, I can do that. I open them and sure enough, feels like Saturday to me.

I stand up and decide to go see what Hermione's doing, even though I already know. She's in the library. She's been in the library since we came home Friday. She told me that she had to look up something. I told her to go ahead and then we'd have some dinner. Yeah, that went well. Halfway through what would ordinarily be dinnertime, I decided to make something myself and make her some of it too, then take it to her in the library. She mumbled "thanks, set it there". I don't know when she ate it, but it wasn't gone until the next morning after I'd given up and gone to bed alone and then got up and found she was already back in the library looking the one damned thing up. But dinner was gone.

So that was pretty much how Saturday went, and all of Sunday till now.( WeekendSaved )

I watch her down another full glass of water and then grimace as she swallows the last of it.

We've just finished clearing the table from breakfast, and I know that MacMillan - er, Healer-in-Training MacMillan - is supposed to come to the cottage to give Hermione her first baby exam today.

"It's just water," I say, wondering. "And if it tastes bad to you, why are you drinking so much?"

"I have to, Ron!" That, and the look.

Uh oh. Dumb question number 673. ( Pictures )