Four Days of Fantasies
Chapter 3—Final Fantasy
The smell of bacon cooking have could possibly pulled Ron out of a coma, especially since it was his second night in a row falling asleep without supper. He rolled over in the bed and realized he was alone. But now the dream he had about snogging a rasher of bacon made sense, as Hermione was clearly making breakfast.
Ron stumbled to the bathroom and washed himself up, then retrieved a pair of pajama bottoms and slipped them on. He trudged into the kitchen to find Hermione setting up a tray with bacon, eggs, toast, marmalade, tea and juice. She looked up and squeaked, clutching her heart.
"You nearly scared me to death!" she panted.
"Sorry," Ron said, approaching her with a mischievous grin. His large hands went around her waist, and he pulled her flush against him. Before he could kiss her, however, Hermione spoke.
"Go back to bed!" she stated firmly. Ron pulled back, a bit confused.
"I'm trying to prepare breakfast in bed for you and I can't do that if you are not in bed." She removed his hands from her waist, turned him around and gave his arse a swat.
"Now go!" she said, and added a little push.
"I love it when you boss me!" He chuckled, and returned to the bedroom like a good little boy. A few moments later, Hermione appeared, levitating the tray in front of her. It glided safely to Ron and settled perfectly onto his lap.
He smiled contently, and then within the next instant, he was devouring the food like a starved animal. Hermione watched with a slightly amused expression. Then she leaned over the other side of the bed and seemed to be rummaging for something that Ron could not see. Since he had a delightful view of her arse, he was not too concerned.
When she righted herself, she plopped a stack of photos on the tray causing Ron to choke on a large piece of toast. Lying before him were very graphic pictures of himself and Hermione shagging.
"Bloody hell!" he shouted, with another cough. "You can't just serve this up with breakfast, Hermione!" Ron picked up one of the photographs with hesitant hands, and stared at himself. His face was deep red and screwed up in the most ghastly expression as he rammed himself deep into Hermione from behind.
A shiver ran through his body, as photo Hermione turned and seemed to look right at the real Ron, then licked her lips in an awfully naughty way. He was speechless as he flipped through each photo, stopping to pay close attention to the ones that had Hermione looking extremely fetching.
"You should do this for a living," Ron said, staring at the first photo he had taken of Hermione sitting on the bed.
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him causing Ron to laugh.
"I didn't mean shag! I meant take pictures, you know, model. You're beautiful."
"Oh," she whispered and blushed slightly. Ron knew she still had trouble believing that she was drop dead gorgeous, but the consensus was wildly popular. Then he had a startling thought.
"Who developed these?"
"I did. It's really rather simple once you get the potion together that will make the photo move."
"Oh," Ron sighed in relief. He'd had a horrid vision of some geeky fellow, reminiscent of Colin Creevey, wanking over photos of Hermione's sexy body. Hermione waved her wand and the empty breakfast tray vanished from Ron's lap, only to be replaced by her. Ron had to admit, it was a much better substitute.
"Happy Birthday," she whispered as she snuggled in comfortably, and then kissed him thoroughly before he could reply. Within minutes, Ron had separated Hermione from her modest nightgown and was fully sheathed inside her.
There was a slowness to their lovemaking now, and Ron couldn't help but relish in the fact that he knew Hermione had no where else to be but with him. He was going to take his time and enjoy every last second of this because honestly, he had no idea how long it would last.
As he moved them into various positions it was always painstakingly slow, getting Hermione right to the edge and pulling back, making the torturous state last even longer. By the time he actually allowed it to happen, she was begging for release. Drenched in sweat and exhausted, Ron rolled over on his back, pulling Hermione to him.
"I don't plan to leave this bed at all today," he murmured, sleepily.
"Mmm, that would be lovely, but we have to go to the Burrow."
"What? Why?" Ron opened his eyes and looked at her, hoping he'd see that she was joking.
"You're the one that asked for dinner for your birthday."
"Fuck!" Ron shouted, flopping his head back on the pillow. He had completely forgotten about that.
"Watch your language." Hermione chastised, half-heartedly.
"I've been yelling out that word for the last three days and you haven't said anything."
"Well that's different. It was in the heat of passion so it's forgivable." A slight rosy tint colored her cheeks as she said that.
"Yeah well, I'm passionate about the fact that I'm not going to the Burrow," Ron grunted.
"Oh yes you are Ronald!" Hermione's head rose from his chest, and she fixed him with a no nonsense glare. "Your mother has probably been cooking for an entire week so you will show up and you will be appreciative!" Ron knew it was futile to resist.
"Fine, but we're eating fast."
"I will do no such thing! Unfortunately, you already eat as if someone is trying to snatch your plate, so I shutter to think what it would be like if you attempted to speed that up," Hermione paused to allow an indignant snort from Ron. "Do not even attempt to rush me out of there!"
Ron huffed but did not contest. The last thing he wanted was to have her be cross with him. Then he had another terrifying thought.
"So…does this mean that we won't…that there won't be a fantasy tonight?" he asked, hoping with all his might that she would take pity on him and send off an owl to his mum telling her that he was too sick to go to the Burrow.
"Of course there will be a fantasy. It will just have to wait until we get back from the Burrow." Hermione smiled up at him, and Ron bit back another curse word.
The couple Apparated to the Burrow at 5pm sharp. It was all Ron could do not to get there earlier so they could leave early, but Hermione told him, 'No matter how early we go, it will just mean we'll be there longer because we are staying until a suitable hour!'
Mrs. Weasley hurried over to Ron as soon as the loud crack announced his arrival, and squeezed her son up in a bone crushing hug. She stepped back only to grab him and hug him again.
"Oh, my Ronnie! Happy birthday, dear," she kissed his cheeks. "Twenty-four! I'm getting old. Our youngest boy is twenty-four, Arthur," she said mistily as Mr. Weasley entered the sitting room. He walked over to his son and embraced him warmly. Ron immediately felt terrible for complaining about coming. While he would choose being in bed with Hermione over just about anything in the world, he knew that he would never really have to make that choice when it came to his family. He could always have both.
All the same, he was happy that everyone was already there, because that would mean they could eat as soon as the food was ready. Normally they always had to wait for someone, most times it was him. Ron watched as his mum pulled Hermione into a suffocating hug, commenting on how she could stand to pick up a few pounds.
Just as he was about to remark that Hermione had just enough meat on her bones, Ron felt a hand grasp his forearm. He looked over to see Harry standing next to him with a wicked grin on his face. Harry jerked his head toward the stairs, and Ron followed him out of the room.
The two men trudged to the top most room, and Ron opened the door feeling very nostalgic. His mum had yet to change a thing about the room and although Ron teased her for it, he was secretly pleased. He flopped down on his bed and wondered how on earth he had slept there only two years ago. Honestly, he had reached his full height of slightly over six feet-four inches back in sixth year.
Harry stood by the door watching him, apparently waiting for something. When Ron didn't speak, Harry huffed impatiently and said, "So?"
"So, what?" Ron stretched out even more on the tiny bed, and folded his arms behind his head, enjoying the fact that he was clearly torturing Harry.
"You know what! What happened?" Harry shouted eagerly.
"Oh, so now you want to know, is that right?" Ron smirked, causing Harry to look a little uncomfortable.
"I don't want to know all the juicy bits, but give me the overview, yeah? You know you want to." Harry gave Ron a smirk of his own, and Ron had to admit, Harry had a point. He did want to tell someone how incredibly naughty his witch was, if only to thumb his nose in the face of all the blokes at Hogwarts that often wondered why he would fancy such a fuss-budget like Hermione. Oh, they all recognized that she had become quite attractive, they just didn't think it was worth the effort to put up with all the stern rules she was sure to make a man follow.
Ron knew better. Though at the time he had no first hand knowledge, Ron knew that while Hermione was certainly going to be high maintenance, she had the potential to be hell-fire in the bedroom. He'd said as much one drunken night in the dorms during seventh year only to be laughed at and ridiculed by his dorm mates. They were blind fools, the lot of them.
All except Harry. Perhaps because they were the two men that knew Hermione better than anyone on the face of the earth, Harry seemed to know that Hermione would never be prudish when it came to Ron. If their rows were anything to go by, then Ron was certainly able to inspire passion from her. Harry had pulled Ron aside later that night and told him so. Ron felt inexplicably grateful for that comment. So this was the reason Ron always felt like bragging when it came to Hermione and how unbelievably hot she was. While it was not really the audience he wanted, Ron would still brag a bit to Harry.
"Well…" Ron started with a smile. "Last night, I came home and she had a camera set up so I could take naughty pictures of her," he paused for effect, and was pleased to see that Harry was staring at him with his mouth agape as he sunk into the chair by Ron's old desk.
"A camera? Hermione?" Harry said dumbly, causing Ron to smile wider.
"Yeah, mate. And she was wearing her Hogwarts uniform…from fifth year!"
"Blood hell! Don't tell me anymore!" Harry covered his ears, but his eyes were as wide as saucers and he had a stupid expression on his face as if he was really trying with all his might to contain a grin. Ron knew he was blowing Harry's mind because even though Ron was certain that Harry didn't view Hermione as a prude, he was sure the man didn't see her quite like this either. Now it all became clear to Ron why women sat around and gossiped all the time…this was fun!
"I didn't tell you about the other fantasy," Ron began, and waited patiently for Harry to remove his hands from his ears. He knew Harry wanted to hear, and if it had been anyone other than Hermione that they were discussing, Harry would want all the sordid details.
"When I got home, she had transfigured the bathroom and had an enormous tub full of champagne," Ron smiled smugly…he had a wonderful girlfriend.
Harry gawked at him for a solid minute then he said, "How in the world did she come up with that? I mean, I know Hermione is brilliant, but no one walks around thinking about filling up bathtubs with champagne." Harry chuckled, however when Ron didn't join him, he stopped.
"What?" Harry asked seriously.
"Well, she got the idea out of my journal," Ron let that statement hang and hoped Harry would catch on without him actually having to say that Hermione had read his journal. Of course, Harry being as astute as he is, caught on instantly. Ron could tell Harry was guarding his expression until he could get a sense of how Ron was feeling about it.
"It's all right, Harry. We had it out…or at least I shouted about it, but I understand why she did it and honestly, the end result benefited me in more ways than I could've imagined. But she feels terrible about it, so don't say anything, all right?"
"Yeah, sure. Blimey, she read your journal…that's so unlike her," Harry said, almost to himself.
"Well yeah, but the circumstances around it made sense and honestly, Hermione is not the saint everyone makes her out to be. Hell, she stole from a teacher to brew an illegal potion and that was just second year." The two men laughed as the bedroom door opened and revealed the topic of the conversation closely followed by Ginny.
"What are you two doing up here?" Hermione asked, perching herself on the edge of Ron's small bed. Ginny plopped on Harry's lap, eyeing the two men suspiciously.
"Just talking," Ron answered, as he pulled Hermione close to him so she could rest on his chest.
"Talking about what?" Ginny asked.
"Stuff," Ron snapped. "Stop being so nosy!" Ginny rolled her eyes at him and then concentrated on her husband. She seemed to know that she could get information out of him rather easily.
"What kind of stuff?" Ginny asked, Harry. "Because you two look rather guilty. Wouldn't you agree, Hermione?" Hermione eyed the two men carefully, and then she shrugged her shoulders.
"What could these two possibly have to talk about that's not Quidditch, anyway?" Hermione said flippantly. Harry chuckled as he scooted Ginny off his lap and stood because Mrs. Weasley had just called for dinner.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Harry said, and stretched with a casual yawn. "Ron was just telling me about his new hobby …photography." The word seemed to hang in the air like a bubble. Then suddenly, Hermione's face turned bright red as Harry burst into laughter and Ginny looked quite confused. Ron sat up so quickly, he nearly knocked Hermione off the bed.
"I didn't…I…he…he… he made me tell him!" Ron shouted, pointing a finger at a laughing Harry.
"Oh really? Exactly how did he make you tell him?" Hermione shouted, towering over Ron now with her hands on her hips doing what seemed to be an impressive impersonation of a clucking chicken.
Ron was clearly stuck for an answer so he went for the sure-fire way to keep her temper down…the laugh. With an expression as serious as he would give his Chief Auror, Ron looked up at her and said, "He used the Imperius curse on me." Hermione stood for a moment, her mouth twitching trying not to smile. Harry was laughing heartily, now and promising Ginny that he would fill her in later. Then Hermione's back straightened and she seemed to decide that she would play along.
"You're an Auror, you know how to fight the Imperius," she folded her arms over her chest in a satisfied way.
"Well, yes…but he used Veritaserum as well," Ron grinned wide and Hermione was unable to keep her smile from cracking.
"You're impossible! You two talk about us..." she gestured between herself and Ginny. "But you two are worse than Lavender and Parvati!" Harry stopped laughing immediately.
"Hey, that was a bit drastic," he whinged. Hermione rolled her eyes and ushered them out of the room. As they were leaving, Harry said, "Hey, Gin, do you still have your Hogwarts uniform?" Thus causing a shriek from Hermione, and a further confused look from Ginny.
Ron however, managed to thump Harry on the head a split second before Hermione pulled him by the ear and said, "Ronald Weasley, you'll do well to even get a fantasy tonight if you can not keep your big mouth shut!" She released his ear with a shove. Ron's entire head was red by the time they made it to the dinner table.
"You're a dead man, Potter!" He grumbled, to a still laughing Harry as he took his seat at the table.
All through dinner, Hermione had fits of nervous anxiety. She wanted to make this last fantasy unforgettable. She was certain that Ron thought her twitchy behavior was due to him spilling his guts to Harry but, honestly, she was happy that they talked about things. She just didn't want to know about it, and she certainly didn't want Harry to bring it up in her presence.
As they sat around the fire and watched Ron open his gifts, Harry leaned forward and whispered something to Ron causing the red-heads ears to burn plum, and Harry to toss back his head and laugh. Hermione knew she needed to put an end to Harry's teasing before the twins caught wind of what happened and then all hell would break loose. As Harry made another off-handed comment about perhaps taking up Ron's new hobby of photography, Hermione knew what she had to do.
"Harry, I think perhaps you ought to stick with flying," she said in a low voice, but loud enough to have the twins interested. Harry looked at her, perplexed.
"I don't really consider flying a hobby," he said dismissively. "But Ron said he'd show me some of the photos he just took…or maybe you'd like to," Harry winked with a smirk and Hermione was unfazed by this. Truly, she loved that Harry felt close enough to her to tease her as he would a sister, but he was playing with fire now. Ron punched Harry in the shoulder causing him to flinch slightly, but maintain the smirk he was shooting toward Hermione.
"Really? Well I suppose you're right. I don't know that flying is exactly a hobby, but then again, I've heard that you like to do more on a broom than just fly." Hermione crossed her legs and waited for the comment to sink in. She didn't have to wait long.
Harry's face paled instantly as his mouth hung open like a dead fish. Hermione glanced at Ginny and mouthed 'sorry,' at the shocked look Ginny was giving her. But she seemed to understand why Hermione had said it. The twins, however, dove in for the kill. Harry shot Hermione a painful look that clearly said, "Game over…you win!" She nodded and then excused herself to the kitchen to clear away some of the wrappings from Ron's gifts. Not two minutes later, Ron stepped into the kitchen.
"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Ron mumbled as he wrapped her in his long arms.
"Harry just needed to be taught a lesson. Whatever he thinks he may know about me, I know even more about him."
"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to tell him."
"Sure you did and it's fine. I like that you two talk, but just keep it between the two of you, please. I mean, Ginny and I talk, how else I would know that they've shagged in mid-air on a broom," Hermione snickered at the appalled look on Ron's face.
"How in the hell…never mind, I don't want to know," Ron whispered with an expression mixed with disgust and genuine curiosity.
"Well, I'm about to go." Hermione stood on her tip-toes and kissed him quickly.
"Finally! I love my family, but I can't wait to get home!" He gave her a devilish grin.
"No Ron, you have to stay here for a while longer."
"Yes, I need time to prepare, at least an hour."
"An hour! Bloody hell, Hermione, I can't wait another hour!"
"Ron, it will be worth it," she said, and took his mouth in a scorching kiss, then left him in the kitchen, with what she knew was a burgeoning erection. Hermione quickly said her goodbyes and grabbed Ginny.
The two women Apparated to Hermione's flat. Ginny followed her down the small hallway to the bedroom. Pulling open the wardrobe, Hermione began to toss things on the bed and rummage even further.
"What are you looking for, and what do you need my help with?" Ginny asked. Hermione extracted herself from the wardrobe and closed it, making her way quickly to the bed.
"I need you to help me put this on." She pulled a black leather corset out of the bag and Ginny simply gaped at her. Hermione knew that she was going to have to fill Ginny in on everything that had happened over the last few days otherwise the girl would tie her down with questions all night. So she began recalling all the events for Ginny as quickly as she could and when she finished, Ginny sat on the bed and stared at Hermione as if seeing her for the first time.
"Champagne?" Ginny mumbled more to herself than to Hermione. "Wow, it's always the quiet ones. I tried to tell Harry that you were kinky, but he never wanted to believe it."
"Ginny! I am not kinky!" Hermione's cheeks colored.
"There's nothing wrong with being kinky, Hermione. Just as long as it's what you both want then it's fine. Really, I shagged on a broom, forty feet in the air, so I'm hardly one to look down on someone for taking naughty photos or what have you," Ginny stated casually. Hermione straightened a bit and eyed Ginny curiously.
"I still don't understand the mechanics of that. How did you two manage not to plummet to your death?" Hermione asked seriously. Ginny chuckled.
"Well, I think you know that Harry was practically born to be on a broom. He can control his broom like some merely control their thoughts. Harry can do things that I think would be considered illegal in some countries." Ginny suddenly got a faraway look on her face as Hermione gaped at her. She really didn't want to think of the twisted sort of things Harry did to his wife in the bed or in the air, but she was more than a little curious as to how that actually felt. Ginny must have sensed Hermione's curiosity.
"I'll show you how we managed it later," Ginny smiled and Hermione frowned slightly.
"Do…do you think your brother would want to do that…on a broom I mean?" Ginny laughed openly.
"Have you met my brother? Of course he'd want to do it. He'd shag you in front of The Quidditch World Cup if he thought you'd let him!" She laughed more as Hermione blushed.
"Any way, let's get you dressed, shall we?" Ginny said, picking up the corset and giving it an appraising look.
Hermione took off her top, and the two of them wrestled her into the corset. She adjusted her breasts as Ginny laced the back, making it tighter and tighter as she went down. When Ginny was done, Hermione stumbled into the bathroom to finish getting dressed.
"Don't leave yet Gin, I want you to tell me if it all looks okay.
Ten minutes later, Hermione stepped out of the bathroom causing an audible gasp from Ginny.
"What!" Hermione screeched. "Is it too much?"
"Blood hell, Hermione! You look…wicked!"
"Really?" Hermione asked timidly.
"Let's put it this way, you look sexy enough that I almost want to shag you!"
"Ginny!" Hermione blushed deep, but she laughed all the same. Turning to the full-length mirror, Hermione's eyes sparkled as she took in the black leather corset that synched in her waist almost to nothing, the skimpy black knickers that barely covered her bum and the wild curls that cascaded down her back. Feeling satisfied, albeit terrified, she went over to the bed and sat down to put on her boots. Unfortunately, the corset was so tight she was unable to bend forward.
"Here, I'll do it." Ginny knelt in front of her and zipped the black leather boot all the way up to Hermione's knee. Then she did the other one and stood goggling at Hermione, apparently still in disbelief.
"Merlin, Hermione, look at your breasts!" They were bubbled over the top of her corset like two alabaster mountains. "Ron is going to take one look at you and drop dead!"
"I certainly hope not." Hermione stood up, now four inches taller thanks to the ridiculously high-heeled boots. She picked up a pair of black satin gloves and slipped them on, tugging them up to her elbows.
"Gin, can you put some makeup on me, only, I'll have to stand or something. This thing is not made for sitting," she indicated the corset.
"Sure," Ginny pulled out her wand and conjured a tall barstool for Hermione straddle. Then set to work on her face. "Trashy right?" Ginny asked, excitedly.
"No! I don't want to look like a slag! Just maybe a little…tart-like," Hermione blushed.
"No problem." After a few complicated waves of her wand, Ginny allow Hermione to look in the mirror. She was actually quite pleased with what she found. Ginny had given her dark smoldering eyes and rather pouty, deep berry colored lips. She stood back from the mirror and turned to let Ginny see the final result. From the look on Ginny's face, Hermione gathered it was a success.
"Hermione, you look…so…so…I don't know, but my goodness, Ron is going to shite himself!"
"Ginny!" Hermione giggled. "Okay, you have to go now, he will be here in ten minutes and believe me, he will be on time! Thank you so much." They hugged each other and Ginny turned to leave, but seemed to see something in Hermione's expression that made her stop.
"Nothing…I'm just…just nervous. I hope I don't look stupid, you know, trying to dominate him. I hope he doesn't laugh."
"Believe me Hermione, the last thing my brother is going to do is laugh. And don't worry, Ron loves when you boss him. It gets him so randy!"
"Ginny!" Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and laughed a bit. Although she knew this from reading Ron's journal, she didn't know that it was common knowledge.
"It's true, even Harry says so. But just incase you need some help…" Ginny turned and quickly left the room. A minute later she returned with a bottle of firewhisky and a glass. She poured about a shot's worth and handed it to Hermione.
"Liquid courage!" Ginny laughed as she watched Hermione drink it down and cough until her face was quite red. Once Hermione was breathing normally, Ginny walked to the door again.
"Well, I'm off…off to go have a nice boring shag, unlike some people."
"Ha! I doubt there will be anything boring going on in the Potter's bedroom tonight!" Hermione countered. She thanked her friend again and a moment later heard the tell-tail whoosh of Ginny Flooing home. She was now alone
Picking up the riding crop, Hermione straddled the barstool once again. She was beginning to have doubts about this fantasy. It all but killed her to pleasure herself in front of Ron, but she conquered that fear by simply keeping her eyes closed, and she was completely certain that Ron would love to watch her pleasure herself.
This fantasy, she was not too sure. Yes, Ron had said that he'd love for her to boss him around and talk dirty to him, but that's easier said than done. Perhaps she had gone too far with the outfit, what if he did laugh? She would be humiliated. What if he didn't like it? It was almost ridiculous to think she could dominate such a strong man, but strength really had nothing to do with it.
Thinking over all the things she had in store, she knew that it was all relatively mild compared to some of the things she read when she had thoroughly researched how to be a dominatrix. Still, it was very risqué for her. She summoned another glass of the firewhisky and grimaced as the heat burst in her chest. Her heeled feet tapped out a nervous rhythm as she fidgeted on the barstool.
As expected, Hermione heard Ron coming down the hallway, precisely ten minutes later. She perched herself on the edge of the barstool and gripped the riding crop in her hands to keep them from trembling. However, before she could work herself into a full-fledged frenzy of nerves, Ron pushed open the bedroom door.
For a brief moment, Hermione thought that Ginny was right and Ron was going to drop dead. He had stepped through the door, taken one look at her, and stumbled back a few paces, clutching his heart.
Hermione could almost see his heart hammering in his chest, and she knew she needed to take control of the situation before his tense gaze made things even more awkward. This was Ron, he wanted this. You can do this! She chanted to herself and before she could begin to have more doubts, she began.
"Take off your clothes!" Hermione ordered, and was surprised by the steady force of her voice. Ron stood dumbfounded for a moment, simply staring at her as if the world as he knew it was collapsing around him. Hermione breathed steadily.
"If I have to repeat myself, you will be sorry." She slapped the palm of her hand with the riding crop, and Ron flinched, but instantly began to remove his clothing, his eyes never leaving her. Once he had stripped down to his boxers he straightened and looked at Hermione expectantly.
"I don't believe I said leave the pants." She glared at him, and he immediately pulled them off. Hermione was very pleased to see that he was already standing hard and firm. She stood and Ron was practically trembling with anticipation. The look on his face was that of a child about to open a much sought after Christmas gift, and that gift could possibly eat him. He was gleefully terrified. Hermione pulled the barstool in front of her.
"Come here," she ordered and Ron walked right up to her. Even with the stool between them, Hermione could feel the heat rising off his body and it almost made her swoon. She stepped back quickly to clear her head.
"Bend over," Ron looked confused for a second and then he leaned forward and gripped the stool, resting his forearms on it.
"Like this?" he asked. WHACK! Hermione slapped Ron across the arse with the rubber side of the ridding crop and he howled in pain. Fortunately, from his position he could not see her face, for Hermione had looked absolutely horrified at what she had just done, but she was determined to play this role to the end.
"We have rules Ronald! And rule number one is, you will not speak until I say you can. Do you understand?" He nodded vigorously.
"Good boy," Hermione purred, rubbing the velvet side of the riding crop over the red mark that was developing on Ron's pale bottom. She pressed her lips against it and then gave it a lick. Ron shivered as if a bucket of ice had been poured down his back.
"Now…" Hermione walked around him tracing her gloved hand along his smooth freckled skin. She stopped when she was right in front of him. Ron's face was level with the front of her knickers, and Hermione knew she'd be able to torture him terribly because of it. However, she simply dropped to her knees until she was eye level with him.
When she met his eyes, it nearly took her breath away. She wasn't sure what she expected to see when she looked into them, maybe passion, excitement, even fear, but what she was met with was pure unadulterated love. It was all consuming, and she found it hard to think and look him in the eyes when he was giving her that much of himself. Hermione closed her eyes for a brief moment then went on with her plan.
"We are going to play a game, Ronald. A game about trust." His eyes changed instantly and he opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione raised the riding crop and he snapped it shut quickly. She knew he was going to protest, saying that he did trust her, but Hermione knew she had destroyed some of it when she read his journal, so now she was going to work hard at getting it back completely.
"As I was saying, it's a game about trust. You already know Rule number one, you will not speak unless I ask you to. Rule number two… you will address me as Maam at all times. Do you understand?" Ron nodded. Hermione shot to her feet. WHACK! She severely swatted Ron on the arse again, this time on the other cheek. Ron wailed.
"Yes Maam!" he shouted, panting hard as he seemed to realize that he should have spoken instead of simply nodding.
"Very good." Hermione soothed his bum with the velvety side of the crop and she could tell by his breathing that he was enjoying it. "Now, rule number three…"She got eye level with him again. "You have to have a safety word." Ron looked confused.
"Choose a word that you will say if things get too…rough and I will stop immediately." Ron smirked.
"That won't be necessary," he replied coolly. Hermione almost smiled, he really was kinky.
"Choose the word, Ron, or…" She stroked the riding crop threateningly.
"If I don't, will you hit me with that thing again?" He looked almost hopeful.
"Is that what you want?"
"Maybe it is." WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Hermione had shot up in a flash and gave each cheek two fierce smacks. Ron growled loudly, and gripped the barstool so tight his knuckles were white. Hermione gave him another whack just for the hell of it. He hollered out again with a ragged groan.
"That was for your cheeky attitude. Now choose the word or you will not get another, since you seem to like it so."
"Okay…" Ron panted. "Um…how 'bout…love?" he asked, with a slight smile.
"No, that won't do at all. It's possible you'll say that just because. So it has to be something you wouldn't call out in the heat of passion, understand?"
Ron nodded, and then seemed to think better of it so he quickly added, "Yes Maam." He thought for a moment longer. "How about…chess?" he asked, as looked up at Hermione and almost seemed afraid.
"Very good. So if it begins to be too much, say the word chess and I will stop." Hermione stepped closer to him, and stroked a gloved hand along his back causing Ron to tremble.
"That was a good word. I think you deserve a reward, Ronald. Would you like one?" she purred.
"Yes Maam," Ron whispered in a voice filled with anticipation. Hermione squatted in front of him and captured his mouth in a burning kiss. She raked gloved fingers though his hair as her tongue delved deep in his mouth. Ron moaned from the depths of his chest as Hermione broke the kiss a moment later and stood in front of him.
"Kiss me," she commanded, and a confused Ron made to stand up, but Hermione arched over him and, WHACK! She slapped his bum again causing Ron to quickly bend back over and grip the barstool seeming to know that he had done something wrong.
"Not on my mouth." Hermione instructed, and Ron seemed perplexed for a moment until he realized that he was level with the little patch of silk covering her heavenly center. She heard him whisper a soft "Oh." Before he reached forward and grabbed her hips. WHACK! Hermione throttled him again.
"FUCK!" Ron howled. WHACK!
"You will mind your language, Ronald, and you will not touch me!" She could see that Ron had an ironclad grip on the barstool, and it was probably the only thing keeping him from strangling her. His face and his bum were a matching shade of crimson. Ron trembled severely as he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on the front of her knickers.
"Oh, you can do better than that, can't you?" She heard him emit a low growl as he leaned forward again and pressed his hot mouth right on her center. She felt his tongue dart out and she knew this wasn't the only reason her knickers were wet. Hermione arched forward and ran her hands down his back as he worked his hot mouth under her at an awkward angle. It felt so delicious that Hermione didn't immediately realize that his hands were gripping her hips again, but the minute she did…WHACK! Ron yelped in pain.
Hermione stepped away from him quickly and walked around to his side. Ron was breathing hard, and had fixed her with a look that said he'd like nothing more than to grab her and pound her into the floor. Hermione shivered, but she was in charge and could not let Ron take control.
"You do not know how to follow directions, Ronald. You never could."
"Rules were made to be broken," he grumbled. The smirk was only on his face for a fraction of a second before…WHACK! WHACK!
"Did I say you could speak?" Hermione barked. She whacked him again. "Get up!" She ordered, and Ron complied with haste. "Get on the bed!" He climbed on quickly and lay on his back. Hermione grabbed her wand and waived it casually. Ron's arms and legs instantly spread to each corner of the bed, and were tied with a velvet rope.
She bit back a laugh as she looked at his face. He looked as if he were about to pass out from the sheer joy of what was happening to him. Hermione climbed on the bed and stood between his legs. She looked at his trembling body, and was oddly proud that she could pull this kind of a reaction from a man. It was empowering. She tossed the riding crop to the side and dropped her wand beside Ron.
As, she slipped off her knickers, Ron let out a groan filled with so much longing that she thought he was going to weep. Still standing, Hermione walked up the bed and placed the tip of her spiked heel against his forehead. Ron looked up at her with an expression that held more questions than fear.
"Do you trust me Ronald?"
"Yes," he replied straight away.
"I mean, really trust me?"
"Yes!" He repeated just as quickly.
"You're lying!" Hermione shouted, but before Ron could refute her, she dropped to her knees so that now her hot center was mere inches away from his mouth. Ron seemed on the verge hyperventilating with the sheer desperation of wanting to get her in his mouth.
"You don't trust me, and you won't even admit it!" When Ron opened his mouth to argue, Hermione tipped her hips forward, covering his lips with her sweet center. He whimpered as his tongue immediately went to work. Slumping forward to the headboard, Hermione let out a wail of pure ecstasy.
Ron gripped the velvet ropes so tight that his muscles budged, and his veins stood out blue and purple against his pale skin. Hermione looked down into his piercing blue eyes and shuddered against the dark passion she saw in them. Suddenly, she screamed out, "I LOVE YOU!" as she climaxed violently on his face.
Hermione slumped back, sitting on Ron's chest. He was breathing extremely hard and she was slightly worried he was going to pass out. His eyes burned with intensity, so much so, that Hermione wondered if he was about to break free of his bindings. However, she wasn't finished yet. He was going to admit that he didn't trust her if it was that last thing he did. Only then would they be able to move on and heal, it was only logical.
Hermione wriggled her hips down his torso until he was lined up with her center. Ron bit his lip and tightened his grip on the ropes. They locked eyes for a sweet moment before Hermione sank slowly onto him.
"Yes!" He expelled a large puff of air from his lungs. "That feels so good!" Ron moaned hungrily, breathing as if it was a struggle to capture any air in his lungs at all. Hermione rolled her hips skillfully and Ron began to match her rhythm.
"Admit it Ron, you don't trust me," she panted.
"I trust you." Ron licked his lips in a seductively playful way. Hermione quickly raised her hips, separating their bodies forcefully.
"AAHHH FUCK!" Ron shouted, and she knew what she had just done had been a horrible mix of pleasure and pain for him, but she also knew she had to continue. Besides, looking down at his body, he didn't look as though he wasn't enjoying it. Hermione just wondered how far she could take it.
"Don't lie!" she yelled, and then practically impaled herself by plunging back onto him. Ron let out a sickly howl, and his breathing was getting louder and louder. He seemed to be emitting a moan with every breath. Hermione began to swirl her hips creating a wicked smacking sound from the abundance of juices flowing between the two of them. Ron's eyes rolled back in his head and veins began to pop out in his neck. She knew he was close to climaxing.
"Tell me you don't trust me!"
"I trust you!" he whimpered loudly. Hermione wrenched their bodies apart once again. This time Ron thrashed so wildly that he nearly tossed Hermione off the bed.
"FUCK! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME!" he growled viciously, and she knew the only thing keeping him from squeezing the life out of her was the tight ropes around his wrist. Provoking Ron's temper was like jabbing a cranky bear with a stick, but this was the only way to get the truth out of him. Hermione sank back so that he was barely inside her. Ron's chest was rising and falling so rapidly that it was almost making her motion sick.
"You will admit the truth Ronald! You will admit that you do not trust me!" she shouted.
"BLOODY HELL!" he roared. His entire body was beet red, and it was as if he was clenching every muscle in his body, which was shaking violently now. "I SAID I TRUST YOU!"
Hermione knew that teasing him like this was becoming painful for him. She just hoped he would admit it soon for she didn't know how much longer she would be able to keep him like this and keep her sanity. It hurt her to see him in pain, but she was determined as she sank a little lower on him.
"You are lying! I know it because I haven't so much as seen your journal! You won't even have it out around me, that's how much you don't trust me!" She ended in a whisper, as her eyes misted over with tears.
"MOTHER FU—CHESS!" Ron shouted viciously. "Take these bloody ropes off of me now!" His voice came out in an angry bark, and it scared Hermione so completely, she had her wand in her hand before she was even conscious of reaching for it.
The instant Ron was free of the bindings he had a vice-like grip on Hermione's shoulders, and had reversed their positions. His entire body seemed to be on fire, and he was quivering from head to toe as he pressed her into the bed. It was his eyes, however, that nearly stopped her heart. The pure intensity of his glare had her fearing for her life. His face was twisted in a terrible expression and his eyes were welling up with tears.
"I TRUST YOU!" he growled, loudly. "You want to know why you haven't seen me with that bloody journal?" He gnashed out through gritted teeth, and his trembling increased dreadfully as if it was taking every ounce of energy he possessed just to speak. "You haven't seen me with it because I haven't needed it! I don't need it because I have you! I HAVE YOU!" He shook her slightly as if to drive home his point.
A tear fell from his eye and landed on Hermione's cheek. Before she could fully absorb what he had just said, Ron pitched forward and drove himself deep inside her. Hermione let out an anguished moan, but instantly wrapped her leather clad legs around his waist and they began to desperately grind against each other.
They were so close a wisp of air would have had an impossible time passing between them and yet it still didn't seem close enough. Ron had snaked his arms around her. One arm cradling her shoulders and the other around her waist and he was holding her as if his very life depended on it. Hermione had one of her arms hooked around his neck and the other gripped his back like a mighty talon. Their foreheads were pressed together and their eyes were locked on each other. It was an odd position indeed, but she needed to hold onto him, and apparently he needed the same.
Ron's thrusts were so shallow that it was as if he wasn't even pulling out at all. The sheer friction between them caused their skin to sizzle, and it took mere minutes before they were screaming out their climax with Hermione's clenching muscles forcefully milking Ron of his very life force.
They lay for the longest time still wrapped around each other, Ron's head buried in Hermione's neck, neither seemed to want to let go of the other. She heard Ron sniff, and then felt the wetness on her shoulder. He was crying and she knew that's why he didn't want to let go just yet. It made her cry as well.
"I love you," she rasped, her voice had slightly failed her. Ron tightened his grip and groaned. She hadn't expected him to be able to speak just yet.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, this time her voice was a touch above a whisper. She felt Ron shake his head against her shoulder, and let out a soft sob with another sniff.
After long moments, Ron rolled off of her and rested on his side pulling her to him. They faced each other and Hermione was touched beyond words that he would let her see him like this. The only other time she had seen him cry was at Dumbledore's funeral, and even then, it was not like this. His entire face was wet and red, but his eyes shone bright and they anchored her to him.
"I trust you, Hermione," his voice came out in a raspy quiver. Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to be able to speak again without bawling all over him. Ron cleared his throat, preparing to speak once more.
"I'll make you a deal…" he said with a sniff. "Whenever I feel like I need to write in the journal about you, how 'bout I just talk to you instead? So you never have to wonder." Hermione did burst into tears then. Ron pulled her to him and wrapped her tight in his arms.
"I take it you agree with that idea?" He chuckled softly as Hermione nodded against his chest. Ron pulled the blanket around their rapidly cooling bodies.
I'll…I'll do the same." Hermione hiccupped. "I'll talk to you wh-when I want to know som-something and not do horrible things like read your journal, all right?" Ron nodded, but then gently lifted her chin until their eyes were locked.
"You have to forgive yourself, love. I've forgiven you. You made a mistake and as perfect as I think you are, you're only human, all right." Hermione nodded, with a loud and rather undignified sniff.
"Love you," he murmured and kissed her forehead, all she could muster was yet another nod. They were quite for a long while, with Ron caressing her lovingly.
"Ron?" Hermione whispered.
"Yeah, love?" He murmured, snuggling his face into her neck.
"Do me a favor?"
"Help me get out of this corset."
Six months later…
Ron carried his wife of eight hours over the threshold of their lovely, romantic honeymoon suite. Hermione yelped has he nearly knocked her head against the door frame.
"Sorry," he said, sheepishly.
"Honestly Ron, I'm going to be no good to you if I'm unconscious." Hermione laughed as he plopped her down on the large four-poster. He took his place at the foot of the bed, and set to taking off her shoes. As he kissed her feet, Hermione reclined with a smile.
Before she could really indulge in the loveliness of the suite, she felt Ron lay something on her stomach. Hermione looked down and saw a small red leather journal. Her first instinct was to panic.
Although Ron had kept to his promise and talked to her whenever he felt the need to write in his journal, the sight of it still made her pulse increase. For her part, Hermione asked him questions when she felt the need to know his feelings. Not to mention, she had allowed her assistant to do what he was hired for, and thus she was able to be home at a normal time almost every night.
So she realized that whatever reason Ron was presenting her with his journal probably had nothing to do with anything bad. Besides, the look on his face confirmed this as he wore a mischievous grin.
"What is this?" Hermione questioned.
"Open it and see." Ron smiled wider. Hermione complied and read the inside cover aloud.
"Ron's Book of Fantasies." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Well, this is mighty enterprising of you."
"Well, you know…always trying to better myself." He cheesed wide, and brushed off his collar in a very aristocratic sort of way. Hermione snorted.
"Flip to page five," Ron instructed. She did, and read the few sentences quickly with an amused smirk on her face. Then she turned the journal around to face him.
"What's this here?" She indicated a specific word. Ron looked at the page and his ears colored slightly. She loved that he still got embarrassed after all that they had done together, and she secretly hoped he would always be that way.
"French maid," he mumbled. Hermione turned the book back around.
"French maid?" She clucked her tongue. "Stay out of my Muggle magazines, would you," she said teasingly, as she remembered a very vivid picture of a woman wearing a French maid uniform in an advertisement for vacuum cleaners. This caused the red on Ron's ears to creep to his cheeks.
"You left it open on that page, I assumed you were trying to…to give me a hint!"
"I did no such thing, if it was open on that page, it was purely by accident. Besides, you've spelled French wrong," she snorted again.
"There is no 'I' in that word, Ronald." Ron snatched the book from her, and gave it a look.
"Sometimes my 'E's' look like 'I's'."
"Your handwriting is appalling." Hermione laughed, causing Ron to toss the journal aside and crawl up her body.
"So are you going to wear it or not?" Ron asked anxiously, mere inches from her face.
"Perhaps…if you're a good boy, Mr. Weasley." She threaded her fingers through his hair.
"Well, I won't make that promise, because you like it when I'm a bad boy…Mrs. Weasley" They paused for a moment and let that sink in. She was now Hermione Weasley. Ron leaned down and kissed her soundly, and after a few mind-blowing minutes, they pulled away tenderly. Hermione looked him in his eyes and sighed…Merlin, she loved this man.
"I'll do your fantasy, but first I have one of my own," she said, and Ron raised a curious eyebrow.
"Yes," Hermione reached into the garter on her thigh and pulled out her wand. Ignoring the comment Ron made about how bloody sexy that was, she flicked it once at the wardrobe in the corner. The doors swung open and Ron peered over his shoulder into the dark cabinet.
"Is that my…my Quidditch uniform…and my broom? Ron goggled at her for a moment. "You are a naughty, naughty witch."
"No reason Harry and Ginny should have all the fun."
AN: Well that is it! I must say that this was a lot more fun than I thought it would be. I never thought I could be creative enough to write for fandom. When I first started reading fan fiction, I thought it should be easy to write, after all, the characters are already developed, the world had been created and all you have to do it pick up at a certain point and take it from there…how wrong was I? LOL.
I see now that it is much more difficult for all the reasons I listed above. So I am pleased that I actually found a plot to build a short story around. So much so that I intend to write another story based in this universe called Bonded (at least that's what its title is for now). It will have mystery, romance, drama, action and of course there will be smut and it will ship Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione equally. I currently have almost 2 chapters done but I want to have 3 complete before I submit the first. So look out for it.
Also, the line in this story about Ginny and Harry shagging on a broom, I have to give credit to a wonderful writer by the name of Bluemidget and her brilliant story, Pany's Volcano. It ships Draco and Hermione and can be found on or but certainly not least, a big thank you to my wonderful Beta…Naiad! Loved all of your input and your brit-picking! LOL. YOU ROCK Christine! I hope we will work together again.
Another heart felt thank you to Jenny, wish we could have finish this story together, may you rest in peace.