Ron couldn’t concentrate.
He knew he’d have to Floo home today because Apparating in his current state could be dangerous. He refused to spend the weekend in St. Mungo’s because of a splinching mishap. Not when his three-year-old son, Edward, would be spending the entire weekend at the Burrow, allowing him and Hermione some much needed alone time.
The moment the clock in Ron’s office read “Time to go home,” he vaulted over his desk and was out of the office in an instant. Mercifully, no one bothered him on the way, not even his Magical Law Enforcement Squad partner, who had spent all day trying to talk Ron into working overtime with him over the weekend.
Yeah right, Ron thought as he headed toward the lift. His plans for the weekend were solid. Tonight he and Hermione would take Edward to the Burrow, and the rest of the weekend they would spend in bed, with only occasional breaks for sleeping and eating.
Once in the Ministry of Magic lobby, Ron groaned loudly at the long wait for the outgoing fireplaces. More than a couple times, he thought of pulling out his badge to jump to the front of the queue, but he knew that if Hermione found out, she wouldn’t be pleased at him abusing his power in that way. Instead, he waited impatiently for his turn, annoyed at the people who didn’t have their pouches of Floo powder ready by the time they reached the front of the queue. Fifteen minutes later, he was spinning through the green flames on his way home.
Ron’s arrival in their sitting room fireplace startled Hermione.
“Why didn’t you Apparate,” Hermione asked rushing over to her husband. “Are you hurt?”
Before she could begin to inspect him, he pulled her into his arms and stooped to kiss her neck. “No, just distracted.”
Hermione tutted, but was grinning as she pulled away from him. “Edward, Daddy’s home.”
Ron heard a squeal from the back of the house. Suddenly his son came running into the room and launched himself at his knees. Ron scooped him up and kissed his forehead.
“Daddy, we play Kiddage.”
“Who played Quidditch? Surely not your mummy,” Ron said with a grin.
“Not with Mummy,” Edward explained. “I play with Cookshakes.”
Ron bit down hard on his bottom lip to stifle a chuckle. Hermione frowned. “He was chasing him around the house all day,” she said. “Tell him why, Edward.”
The little boy lifted his blue eyes to his father’s and grinned. “I a Budger.”
Ron laughed loudly and Hermione tried unsuccessfully not to laugh herself. Edward squirmed in Ron’s arms until he set him down on the floor. The three-year-old immediately took off running to the back of the house.
“A Bludger?” Ron asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “We went to Diagon Alley today so I could pick up your new work robes from Madam Malkin’s. Eddie wanted to see Fred and George, so we stopped over at their shop. Of course, right away they started tossing him back and forth and calling him ‘Little Bludger.’ He loved it, as you can imagine.”
Ron laughed and called, “Oi! Come here, Little Bludger.”
Hermione gave him a disapproving look as Edward came barreling out of nowhere and made impact with Ron’s knees again. He winced and decided to start wearing protective gear when handling his son.
“Are you ready to go to the Burrow?” Ron asked.
Edward smiled and nodded furiously.
“Go get Norbert,” Hermione told him, and he ran off again.
Ron pulled her close. “I’m so glad my mum agreed to watch Eddie for us,” he said.
“Me too,” she said snuggling against his chest. “The bag I packed for him is on the settee. We can leave as soon as he comes back with Norbert.”
“Mmm, can’t wait,” he said as he ran his hands over her bum.
“Well, you’re going to have to,” she said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
Little footsteps pattered back toward the sitting room, and Hermione extracted herself from her husband’s arms just as Edward came running into the room, dragging his stuffed dragon behind him.
“Time to go, Eddie,” she said, reaching for his bag.
Ron picked up the toddler and headed toward the fireplace. It was with great effort that he managed to hold his son in such a way that the squirming toddler would not be able to throw an arm out and land them in a stranger’s fireplace. Hermione threw powder into the fire for him and Ron exclaimed “The Burrow” after stepping into the green flames. He and Edward whirled fast through the Network, the younger Weasley squealing delightedly the entire time. Ron felt them slowing and shifted the little boy under one arm, almost as he would hold a Quaffle, so he would have his other arm free to brace their fall. Luckily, he managed to do it just before they fell through the fireplace into the stone kitchen floor at the Burrow.
Ron knelt in front of Edward dusting the soot from his little jacket and from his red curls.
“Mum,” Ron called out. “We’re here.”
His mum came rushing into the room seconds later. She gave Ron a quick kiss before descending on her grandson.
“Oh my Eddikins, look how you’ve grown since the last time I’ve seen you,” she said, kissing his fat little cheeks.
“Don’t call him that, Mum. Do you want to scar him for life?” Ron protested.
She waved her hand at him dismissively and turned to greet Hermione who had just appeared with a whoosh in the kitchen fireplace. “Hello, dear. How are you?”
“Hello, Molly. I’m fine,” Hermione replied. “Just a bit tired. Ron and I haven’t gotten much sleep lately. Eddie is having a difficult time adjusting to his new bed.”
The elder Weasley nodded meaningfully. “Well, don’t you worry. You’ll get plenty of sleep this weekend.”
Not if I can help it, Ron thought. He caught Hermione’s eye and noticed her cheeks turning slightly pink. He knew she was thinking the same thing and felt his ears begin to burn. Luckily, his mum didn’t notice as she had turned her attention back to Edward, who was telling her of his day of playing Quidditch with Crookshanks.
“Well, I reckon, we’ll be leaving you to it,” Ron said.
“Are you sure you two won’t stay for dinner?” Molly asked.
“I’m sure Ronnie has other plans for tonight,” said a voice from the doorway of the kitchen.
“Big plans,” chimed in another voice.
Ron cursed inwardly and turned to face his twin brothers. Edward let out a giggle and ran toward them. “Uncle Fed! Uncle Goge!”
“Oi, it’s the Little Bludger,” Fred exclaimed.
“What are you two doing here?” Ron asked, as he watched his brother lift Edward into the air, kiss him roughly on the cheek, and toss him over to George.
“Us?” George said with feigned shock.
“We’re here to have dinner with Mum and Dad,” Fred replied. “The bigger question is why you two are ditching your son for the weekend.”
“We aren’t ditching him…” Hermione began indignantly.
“Mum is watching him for the weekend. It’s no big deal.” Ron said.
“That’s right,” Molly said, fondly. “We love having Edward here.”
“I’m sure Ronnikins loves you having Edward here too,” George said, with a wink.
“So what are your plans for tonight, kids?” Fred asked, putting his arms around Ron and Hermione’s shoulders.
Before Ron could retort, Edward, who had been trying in vain to get his uncle’s attention by saying “Goge” repeatedly, blurted out, “I getting a little brother.”
Molly looked at Hermione expectantly, but she shook her head. “I’m not pregnant. He wants a brother, but…”
“…you’re going to work on that tonight?” Fred suggested, waggling his eyebrows.
He and George immediately burst into hysterical laughter, fueled further by the blush creeping across his younger brother and sister-in-law’s faces. Molly tutted and took her giggling grandson from George before he dropped him in his glee.
“Honestly!” their mother scolded. “If you two were to ever settle down and have families of your own you’d see that it isn’t easy to find time for…”
“Thanks, Mum,” Ron cut in before the mental image of his mum and dad shagging entered his mind and all thoughts of making love to his own wife were vanquished for the entire night. “I think Hermione and I will be going now.”
He noticed Hermione’s jaw was clenched and her cheeks flushed. She wasn’t happy. This certainly was not how he had hoped to start the night.
Ron and Hermione hugged and kissed their son goodbye. Edward squirmed out of his father’s embrace and ran off to the sitting room to join his uncles, who had retreated before their mother could begin to shout at them.
“Thank you again, Molly,” Hermione said, hugging her.
“It’s no trouble, dears,” she replied, planting a wet kiss on Ron’s cheek. “Anytime you want to bring him over I’ll be happy to watch him.”
Ron led Hermione over to the fireplace and they Flooed home, one after the other. When he arrived in their sitting room, she was waiting for him beside the fireplace. Ron wasted no time pulling Hermione into his arms and kissing her deeply. She hadn’t been expecting it, and hesitated for a moment before returning his kiss with identical fervor. Any irritation she had felt at Fred and George was gone. He smiled at the fact that he was the only thing on her mind now.
Ron pulled away from her mouth, dragging his lips and tongue across her jaw line, then moved his mouth lower. He felt Hermione shiver as he pressed his lips to her neck. He breathed in the scent of her perfume, the same scent he had given to her when they were fifteen. “I missed this,” he whispered against her skin, letting his hands wander down to cup her breasts.
Hermione could only moan softly in response. He leaned back to look at her face, flushed slightly, her lips swollen. He raised one hand and ran his fingers through the wild curls framing her face. She never looked more beautiful than when she was smiling at him like that. That smile that always made him feel powerful and worthy, as if he were special, as if he wasn’t just the youngest of six Weasley brothers. That smile was all for him.
He pressed his lips firmly to hers again, and this time she deepened the kiss, digging her fingers into his back in effort to pull him closer. The intensity of his arousal began to grow and he wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her flush against him.
She broke their kiss briefly to murmur, “Bedroom, Ron.”
He knew that they could have easily made love on the settee, the floor, against the wall; their mutual arousal was such that they both were seeking a quick release. Nevertheless, Ron understood why Hermione needed it to be in their bedroom, in their own bed after weeks of taking turns sleeping on a cot in their son’s room. Their bed was their sanctuary. They had made love there for the first time on their wedding night, mere months after Ron’s eighteenth birthday. It was the place they’d conceived Edward. It was the one place that, despite past losses in war, work troubles, and family woes, they could leave it all behind and just get lost in each another.
“All right,” he mumbled against her lips.
They stumbled blindly through the house still clinging to each other, stopping every few steps to kiss or caress each other. Ron had already shed his work robes somewhere along the way and, as they crossed the threshold of their bedroom, pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his shoes.
Hermione tsked at his messy behavior. She sat down on the edge of the bed and removed her sandals.
“You’re going to clean that up later,” she said in a scolding tone.
Ron grinned and started to speak but his retort died in his throat. He stopped in the act of pulling off his socks to stare at Hermione, who was unbuttoning her thin, white blouse. He licked his lips in anticipation.
She noticed him watching and lingered at each button teasingly. He managed to rid himself of his socks and made it to the bed just as she was opening her bottommost button. He pushed her hands away and ran his over her smooth, slightly rounded belly, up her satin clad breasts and up to her shoulders, where he pushed her shirt off completely.
“You’re so soft, so beautiful,” he said affectionately.
Ron caught her lips in another kiss, pushing her back onto the bed. He leaned on one elbow beside her, angling his arm so that his hand cupped the back of her head. He tangled his fingers into her curls and basked in the sensation of her soft hands roaming his body. Hermione ran her hands lovingly over his chest. He never understood how she could gaze at him so reverently. He was pale, freckled, and far too skinny. She always insisted he was beautiful, even though it still made him blush profusely when she said it. Hermione traced one of the faded scars that remained on his chest from the brains that attacked him in the Department of Mysteries and a shiver ran through him. They weren’t as noticeable as those on his forearms, but they were there as a reminder of the hardships they’d faced as mere children. A reminder of how blessed they were even to be here and now. Hermione flicked at his nipple with her thumb. His breath hitched in his throat and she chuckled, moving her hands around to his back to rub the tense muscles there. She dipped her hands lower still and gripped his arse, causing him to let out a low groan.
He knew she was enjoying the way he was reacting to her and he ground his hips slowly against hers, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to him. Hermione’s breath quickened and she clutched at him tighter. Ron slipped his fingers into her pale pink bra and traced his fingertips over the skin underneath. Without warning, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She slipped her bra straps slowly down her arms and bared her full, round breasts to him at last.
Ron sat up beside her to give himself better access and a better view. As his large hands cupped her perfect breasts, he marveled how soft her skin always was when he touched her there. He traced circles with his thumbs over her nipples and felt them quickly harden under his ministrations. She moaned his name and his cock twitched in anticipation, but he wasn’t quite ready for it all to be over. He hadn’t had much time in the past couple weeks to touch her this intimately and he wanted to enjoy every moment of it. He dipped his mouth to her chest placing wet kisses on her skin, sucking and licking as he trailed a path to her nipple. He closed his mouth over it, sucking it firmly into his mouth as he massaged her other breast with his fingertips. Hermione moaned loudly and arched off the bed. He ran his tongue down between her breasts and up to her other nipple to lavish his attention on that one as well.
“Ron, please,” Hermione cried out, gripping tightly at his shoulders and pulling him up so she could kiss him again.
“Oh, no,” he said breathlessly. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Ron slid the soft, floaty skirt she was wearing down her thighs, enjoying the feel of the smooth skin he uncovered. He ran his hand up her inner thigh and caressed her through the soaked-through fabric of her knickers.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he swore, immediately hooking his fingers under the waistband and pulling her knickers off.
He smiled at the view of his beautiful wife naked before him. He caressed her inner thighs, tracing his fingertips lightly over her skin. She groaned in frustration.
“All right,” he whispered.
He brushed her clit gently with his thumb, causing her to whimper.
“Do you like that?” he asked, with a chuckle.
“Please, Ron,” she begged.
“All right then,” he said, as he inched down her body.
He kissed her breasts again, gently tugging at one nipple with his teeth before moving lower to her belly. He placed a soft kiss just under her belly button before continuing downward. Soon he was level with the damp curls between her legs. Goosebumps raised on her flesh as she anticipated his next move.
Before she could say another word, Ron plunged his tongue into her center. His limbs trembled in anticipation as he stroked her with his tongue. He started with a slow rhythm, massaging her clit with his thumb as he used his mouth on her. Hermione panted and whimpered, and he increased his speed, spurred on by the sexy noises she was making. He ran his tongue up to her clit, thrusting two fingers into her entrance.
“Oh, Ron,” Hermione cried, gripping his ginger locks tightly in her hands.
She was so close and all he wanted was to push her over the edge. Ron moved his fingers faster within her and Hermione began to buck her hips against his face. He had to finish this. Her scent, her taste, everything was conspiring to drive him completely mad. He closed his lips around her clit and sucked hard. He felt her tighten around his fingers and his name spilled from her lips as she fell apart completely.
Hermione released her grip on his hair and Ron lifted his head from between her legs. She was looking down at him with a lazy smile, her eyes clouded with desire.
“Wow,” she whispered.
He grinned and moved back up beside her. “Yeah, that was brilliant.”
Nevertheless, the bulge in his trousers was becoming uncomfortable and he was in desperate need of relief. As if reading his mind, Hermione began to unbutton his trousers and pull them down his thighs. He quickly divested himself of his maroon boxer shorts as well and settled himself between Hermione’s parted thighs. She lightly ran her fingers up and down his hard cock. Ron groaned at the sensation.
“Do you like that?” she teased, turning the tables on him for his earlier actions.
“Hermione,” Ron pleaded.
She ran her fingers lightly over the tip eliciting another groan. Finally, she took him more fully into her hand and began to stroke him in earnest.
It was too much. Now it was his turn to beg. “Hermione, please…can we…I need…”
Ron looked into her warm brown eyes and knew Hermione was just as ready as he was. The teasing was fun, but it had been too long since they had been together. He needed to be inside her. Hermione stroked him once more before positioning the head of his cock at her entrance. The sensation of her slick, wet opening was maddening. Ron could feel her heat and wanted nothing more than to be consumed by it. He propped himself up on his arms and gazed at her for just a moment before thrusting deep inside her. Hermione let out a choked cry and he groaned loudly as her tightness stretched around him.
“ So…fucking good,” he gritted out.
Ron’s arms trembled under him. The thrill of being inside her after so long was almost too much. He pulled out and sank back in, achingly slow, savoring her tight, wet heat. Hermione began to roll her hips beneath him.
“More, Ron,” she said breathlessly.
Ron grunted and pulled back only to slam back in. He quickened his pace, sliding in and out of her easily. Hermione was moaning, gasping his name and he was quickly losing control. He squeezed his eyes shut and grasped her by the hip, pushing himself deeper inside of her with every stroke.
Hermione’s hand cupped his cheek and he forced himself to open his eyes and look at her. She was smiling her incredible smile and looking deep into his eyes. He could see his own love and desire mirrored back to him. Even after nearly four years of marriage it still hit him powerfully every time. He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, his favorite place to kiss her. Her skin was moist and tasted salty with sweat. Ron continued to move within her. The pressure was increasing and as much as he wanted to prolong their connection, he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.
Ron thrust into her again and again, feeling the tension building deep inside his stomach. Hermione’s breathing became more and more erratic and her moans were becoming desperate whimpers. All of a sudden, she wrapped her legs around his waist drawing him in deeper and almost finishing him off right then.
“Fuck, Hermione,” he cried out.
There was no holding back; this position was much better for her as with every thrust he bumped up against her clit. Ron’s pace was now frantic and all too soon, he felt her tighten around him. Hermione screamed his name and came with a shudder. One last thrust was all it took before he saw blinding white light behind his eyelids and he spilled into her.
Ron fell forward onto her gasping for air, resting his forehead against Hermione’s for a moment. He pulled out of her carefully, knowing she was always very sensitive after she came, and rolled off her. He looked at his wife’s sweaty face, still flushed, random curls sticking to her forehead and smiled.
“That was incredible,” he said, as he pulled her into an embrace.
“Yes it was,” she agreed, grinning wearily.
“What do you say we buy my mum that new stove she’s been wanting?”
Hermione laughed. “Really? Then what will you give her the next time we need a weekend alone together?”
“Dunno,” Ron said, planting a kiss atop her head. “A Firebolt…a new house.”
“This could get expensive,” she mused.
“Well then, I guess we better make the most of this weekend,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.
“Thank God for grandparents,” she murmured, before their lips met and they were lost in each other all over again.