Thanks so much for this prompt, and I’m sorry it took so long! Since we’ve obviously had some new material the last couple days, I took the liberty of tweaking your idea a bit to incorporate it - hopefully you like it! :)
"For the last time, Hermione, I’m not having our children cheering for your Hogwarts sweetheart,” Ron reminded his wife as they ambled down the path toward the Potter residence, their fingers entwined as they swung their hands between them.
"And for the last time, Ron, that’s utterly ridiculous," Hermione replied. "And besides, if anybody was my ‘Hogwarts sweetheart,’ whatever that means, it was you.”
Ron flushed, clearly pleased, but still argued: “We weren’t really together at Hogwarts.”
"Not while we were both students, anyway,” Hermione countered, a particular gleam in her eye as she turned to grin at her husband.
Ron beamed at the memory. “Yeah, dunno if we want to use the term ‘sweetheart’ to describe those encounters though, do we?”
"Seems a bit tame, yes," Hermione agreed sagely.
"I’m still buying the Brazilian gear," Ron said as they approached the doorstep of the house, designed to look like a cottage but far too large to truly fit the term.
"I know," Hermione affirmed with a roll of her eyes, though Ron knew without looking that she still wore an affectionate smile as she knocked on the door.
They could only make eyes at each other a second longer; the door was opened so suddenly and with so much force that they nearly jumped out of their skin.
"Uncle Ron! Aunt Hermione!"
James flew through the entrance hall on a toy broomstick, performing various tricks that should not have been possible on a child’s broom and, much to his godparents’ chagrin, holding onto his younger brother, Al, by the ankle.
"James Sirius! You let your brother go this instant!" Hermione scolded, racing toward them as Al continued to dangle precariously in the air, looking quite unsure as to whether he should be enjoying the ride or screaming with terror.
"It’s useless, Hermione, just let them be. James will get bored soon enough." Harry had just appeared in the foyer, holding a screaming Lily in his arms. Though she was already six years old, she hadn’t quite outgrown her temper tantrum phase. "I wouldn’t let her have another biscuit," Harry explained wearily as he shifted his daughter from one side to the other.
"Place damn near falls apart without Ginny, eh?" Ron chortled, but Hermione frowned.
"Are you really letting your sons roughhouse like that, Harry?" She crossed her arms as James giggled and zigzagged between his father and his uncle. Al had begun to laugh as well, though rather nervously as he swung into Ron’s leg.
"I’m watching them; they aren’t going to be hurt," Harry dismissed, nodding toward the kitchen. They all followed him, even James on his broomstick. "Did you send Rose and Hugo along already?"
"They went ahead with Charlie," Ron replied. "We’d have gone, too, but we reckoned you might like a hand with this lot."
"Yeah, well, maybe the International Portkey will calm them down a bit," Harry remarked. "James! Al! Get down from there, will you? We’re off in…" He paused to check his watch, but realized it wasn’t there. Lily, seemingly exhausted with her crying, had torn it from his wrist in a fit of anguish and was now shaking it insistently.
"We’re off in ten minutes," Hermione informed him, using her wand to immobilize James’ broom while Ron took Lily from Harry. For some reason, a stern word or two from her favorite uncle had more of an effect on her behavior than even the promise of ice cream.
As Hermione lifted Al from James’ grip safely to the ground, Harry leaned back against the kitchen table and sighed. “I don’t give a dragon’s snout about the match,” he declared. “I just want my wife back.”
Hermione smiled sympathetically, but Ron laughed. “Nice try, mate, but I know how much you want to see Krum get his trophy.” Ron reached over to grip his shoulder. “I won’t even hold it against you, how’s that?”
"As if you didn’t want to see him win, too. You just won’t admit it," Harry retorted, and Ron shrugged.
"Ginny said Skeeter’s going to be there. Gotta keep up appearances, y’know, give her a scandal. Otherwise she’ll create something twice as bad." Ron tapped his head knowingly, and Lily giggled, the trauma of being denied a biscuit seemingly forgotten.
"Why she considers us celebrities, I’ll never know,” Hermione added, patting Al on the head as he dragged his knapsack toward the pile of luggage at the foot of the kitchen table. “We live rather unglamorous lives.”
"And thank Merlin for it," Harry concurred. The three of them chortled and shared a knowing smile. Twenty years since the first time they’d gone to the Cup, and now they were taking their children.
So much had changed, Harry thought, his grin widening as he watched his best mates talk to his children, Ron reaching for Hermione’s hand with his free one - but the most important things, thankfully, would remain ever the same.