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Hermione was grateful that Ron had volunteered to wrangle both kids for their bedtime routine, but if she had learned anything from all their years together, it was that too much quiet in a Weasley household could only mean trouble. Her three favorite redheads had been upstairs for nearly an hour, and she was just beginning to wonder if she ought to set her book aside to go check on them when Ron shouted her name and made the decision for her.
She raced upstairs to the kids’ bathroom and took in the chaotic sight in front of her. Rose was still sitting in the tub, crying. Hugo was by the sink, toothpaste all over his face, crying. Ron, inexplicably, was laughing. And all three of them, along with much of the room, were covered in soapy water. “What’s going on?” Hermione asked urgently.
Ron swept her up in a wet hug and kissed her cheek. “Rosie did magic!” he exclaimed. Hermione peered over his shoulder at their daughter.
“What? Really?”
At four, Rose had just reached that age where they were sort of always on guard for bouts of accidental magic to begin, but their caution had been for nothing, until now.
“Why are they crying, then?”
“Well, er...” Ron set her at arm’s length and reached for a washcloth to wipe Hugo’s face. Hermione took a towel from the rack and wrapped it around Rose, lifting her from the bath. “Rosie said that she was a big girl who didn’t need her rubber duck at bath time, so I set it on the counter, but then Hugo took it, and, well, we couldn’t have that apparently,” he rambled. “And somehow, Rose turned her bath into a monsoon over it, and here we are.” Hugo now attended to, and both kids down to just the sniffles, Ron cast a drying charm around the room before turning his wand on himself.
“Okay,” Hermione said slowly, carefully toweling Rose’s curls. “But why is she crying?”
“Daddy yelled,” Rose pouted, burying her face in Hermione’s neck.
Hermione frowned at him, but Ron shook his head. “I didn’t yell at her,” he clarified. “I just got really excited and I think I startled her.” He opened his arms, and Hermione shifted Rose over to him. “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Rose raised her head to look at him, her lower lip still trembling. “But I made a mess. You were mad.”
“No, sweetheart, you made a magical mess, and I’m not mad at all. See, it’s all cleaned up already.” Ron gestured around the room, and Rose seemed to calm down as she looked.
“I did magic? Like you and mummy?” she asked hopefully. Ron nodded and kissed her forehead.
“Just like me and mummy.”
“Dare I ask how far along bathtime was before the tidal wave?” Hermione asked, watching them with a smile.
“Eh, we were almost done, weren’t we, Rosie?” Rose nodded eagerly. “Enough time to spare for a story before bed, don’t you reckon?”
“Stowy!” Hugo cried excitedly, the watery accident now apparently forgotten.
“What d’you say, Hermione, want to join us for a bedtime story?” Ron asked, leaning over to give her a kiss.
“That sounds lovely.” She hauled Hugo into her arms and followed Ron down the hall to Rose’s room, the four of them settling in for a quiet ending to the magical night.