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Hermione smiled as she watched her daughter chase the brightly colored bubbles. She looked at her husband and arched a brow. "You know, it's not very fair of you to charm them to fly around like that."

"Fair?" Ron repeated with a grin. "You're the smart one, Hermione. You know I don't know all these odd words you use. What is this fair thing you're talking about? See, I think of it as a brilliant strategy."

"You're such a git," she muttered before she looked back at Catherine. "What sort of strategy?"

"The most important strategy," he declared as his arm moved around her waist and he pulled her back against him. He lowered his voice as if confiding something very secretive. "If she runs after the bubbles, she'll get tired. When she gets tired, she'll take a nap. While she's taking a nap, we can keep ourselves entertained."

"Entertained?" She angled her head to allow his lips to brush against her neck, both watching their daughter so they could stop if she stopped being fascinated by the charmed bubbles. His hand moved beneath her shirt to rest on her bare belly. "What sort of entertainment did you have in mind, Ronald?"

"You and your questions, woman. Why can't you just say 'Oh, Ron, you're so smart and have the best ideas ever'?"

"Because I don't believe in lying," she told him, laughing when he growled against her neck.

"I'm sure we can think of some way to keep ourselves entertained," he finally grumbled as his hand slid higher.

She stopped his hand and pushed it back down just in case Catherine looked over. "Ronald?"

"I hate when you call me that in that prissy voice," he murmured as he tried to slide his hand up again. "What, Hermione?"

She turned her head and smiled up at him. "You have the best ideas," she said before she kissed him.