A/N The final Mischief Night! Sorry it's a bit late but I hurt my neck and couldn't really sit up to finish it yesterday. Ron and Hermione get up to the best kind of mischief of all.

Mischief Night

By November Ron and Hermione were well and truly settled into their new home, a flat in York, and even found the Muggle children trick or treating amusing. Notable was the fact that most were teenagers knocking on doors and asking for money and that half the time they had to explain to a pensioner exactly what trick or treating involved.

Their neighbour, a woman Ron made up far fetched stories about, had responded to the words 'trick or treat' with, "I'm not American" and a hastily slammed door.

"I bet she's furious that she had to get dressed to answer the door," Ron had said as they snuggled together on the sofa that evening.

"So now she's naked all the time is she?" Hermione giggled.

"She's having a non contact affair with the man who lives in the flat across the road. They have window sex and do things to themselves while the other watches."

"A non contact affair, does that count as actually having an affair?"

"If you were flashing the perv across the road and watching him wank I'd say you were cheating on me," Ron said, plainly.

"So what about when you admire ladies' breasts?" Hermione smirked.

"That's different."

"How?"

"Sometimes they're right there," Ron made a gesture with both hands before his chest, "but a discreet glance isn't the same as a secret un-harnessing of the boobs for a private peep show."

"It's still looking and getting turned on."

"No it's not!" Ron sat up. "It's looking and appreciating and being fascinated by...y'know, shapes and gravity?"

"So if I admire the bulge at the front of a man's trousers then-"

"Hermione!" Ron gasped in shock.

"How is that different?"

"Tits aren't genitals!"

Hermione snorted and then laughed.

"Boobs are nice to look at, a cock and balls really aren't," Ron insisted.

"They can be nice to look at," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Since when?" Ron demanded.

"Since... Well I like looking at yours."

Ron looked astonished and then stared down at his groin.

"Well they aren't pretty but I like them." Hermione sighed and relaxed against Ron's chest once more.

"You do?"

"They're lovely."

"My bollocks can't be lovely," Ron said with a scrunched up face.

"Do you think my vagina's lovely?"

Ron's eyes were suddenly very wide.

"Is this a trick?"

"Just answer the question," she huffed.

"I don't think about it."

"Are my boobs lovely?"

"Yes!" Ron responded emphatically.

"Is my vagina ugly?"

"No, of course not."

"So there you have it, groins aren't horrible things all the time."

Ron settled back into the sofa cushions and thought for a moment.

"Are my...nipples lovely?"

"Your nipples?" Hermione looked puzzled.

"Well I don't have boobs, we've covered the only things I've got."

"Not the only things you've got," Hermione mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what, tell me?"

"It was nothing," Hermione said, innocently.

Ron was silent and thoughtful again. Then he whispered into the top of her head.

"Is my arse lovely?"

"Your arse is divine!" Hermione groaned.

Ron was so pleased with himself he forgot all about the woman in the other flat and her 'affair'.

Though Hermione had thought about Nickanan Night, and what had happened to Ron, she was pleased to see he wasn't carrying any anxiety about it during Halloween. Though it had come up as Halloween approached.

Ron had said that it was more than just kids with no social awareness or responsibility going a bit too far. He'd reminded her about how she felt during Dappy Door Night and she'd reminded him how he'd seen the whole thing as good clean fun then. She put it down to him just not enjoying the tradition he was used to executed so differently.

"They actually destroyed the doors, not knocking and hiding or throwing stones. They smashed down the doors and kidnapped somebody. That's not the same as putting a sundial on a boat!"

Hermione sighed and tried not to get into an argument with him. She did think that he'd spent so much time with the Aurors that he was seeing dark motives in everything. The more distance between her and the Voldemort years, the less suspicious Hermione was. It was as if she and Ron had crossed over.

Part of her was saddened by this, she hated to think of the things Ron had seen and been through that might have changed him so much. He'd come home some nights and not really talk at all for a good hour. When really bad things happened, like when one of Ron's friends had been crippled on the job and had to retire before they reached their thirtieth birthday, he had sat and talked to her about it. The ting was that his day to day experiences were often things he needed to leave at work. She'd find out from Ginny, or worse the paper, that Ron had been almost killed or in grave danger but he'd not mentioned a thing to her.

She'd made a point of having Ron fill out the form declaring that any time he was hospitalised she was to be notified. It had been almost monthly but she'd stuck to her insistence that she know every time. Fortunately most times it was cuts and bumps, occasionally a broken bone or recovery from stunning spells, but she never took him being hurt lightly.

The Nickanan lads hadn't knocked Ron out themselves, he'd had an unfortunate accident and they, caught up in the excitement of the night, hadn't realised that dragging him into the woods and leaving him in the cold all night was a tad unwise.

Ron was hyper suspicious and she was more relaxed.

This probably explained why, when November the fourth came along, Ron and Hermione had a blazing row over something called Mischief Night.

"But it's a Muggle thing, just like Halloween is now!" Hermione struggled to reason with the man who was throwing things into an overnight bag.

"It's yet another night were people can terrorise in the name of fun," Ron said angrily. "It doesn't happen in Devon, I'm staying at Mum and Dad's."

"But it did happen in Devon, you just knew what to expect there," she said as she tugged at his sleeve.

"I'm not taking any chances. So what if it's stupid? I'm stupid so I want to go somewhere else while Yorkshire smashes my front door in!"

"You are not stupid," Hermione fumed and shoved him in the chest, "that is not your fall back way of shutting me up any more."

"So you're not coming?" Ron's face was reddening to match his ears.

"You're not going!" Hermione blocked the doorway.

"This could be serious and since when did you not take precautions when it comes to our safety?" Ron was using his Auror voice, something he never did when talking to her.

"You're being ridiculous," she said, standing firm, "I understand that last time was very unnerving to you because you were defenceless without one of your senses but..."

"Without one of my senses, most of my clothes, and by wand!" Ron stepped right up to loom over her.

"Ron," she began, sternly.

"Take me seriously," he said, with a hint of betrayal behind his anger.

"I do," she paused to take his hand and squeeze, "I am taking you very seriously. If you have a spider encounter I don't laugh or tease you do I? Your fears are very serious to me."

"This isn't an irrational fear, I was left for dead in the freezing cold a few months ago!"

"You're talking like Mad-Eye Moody, everything isn't an attack. Everything isn't sinister. Sometimes children messing about is just children messing about," Hermione hated to see Ron lose his light hearted fun side to the Aurors.

"And he was bloody right! He was right up until he died and if people would have listened to him about 'dung he never would have died."

"He was lonely and miserable and bitter too!" Hermione said as she shoved him in the chest with both hands. "I don't want that to happen to you."

"If it'd happened to you I'd have taken it seriously," Ron mumbled as he pushed past her and headed for the door.

"I took it seriously!" She shouted at his back. "I walked around those woods all night looking for you. I was worried about you and I'm worried about you now."

"Are you coming?" He asked her.

Hermione thought back to the last time he asked her to go with him because his head was all over the place. She'd said no and she hadn't seen him for weeks. She'd said no and he thought she didn't want him.

"I'll come with you but I'm not conceeding defeat. You're still wrong."

"I'm always bloody wrong!" Ron spun around and snapped, arms flailing around him. "All I ask is that you let me be wrong but feel safe. I want to be wrong. I'm happy to be wrong about this but I don't want to be here tonight."

"That's fine," she rushed into his arms and clung to him, "that was all you needed to say. We'll go to a hotel in...Liverpool."

"They do it too, and Manchester," he said darkly, "I looked it up."

"Wow, you read, you really are taking this seriously."

Ron didn't laugh. She stroked his face and smiled.

"Where can we go?"

"They don't do it in Wales."

"So we'll get a room in Wales, Cardiff all right?"

Ron frowned.

"What happened in Cardiff?" Hermione sighed.

"Nothing dark, I just can't be seen in Cardiff for a while. We didn't get to modify all the memories, people got away from us."

"Okay, the valleys then?"

"Welsh greens think I'm Charlie and try to hump me," Ron said, blushing.

Hermione grinned.

"Well I don't want any competition for that," she said as she slid her hands down his back and crushed their bodies together. "Name your place and I'll find us a room."

"I was gonna go to Devil's Bridge," he said with a shrug.

"You feel safe in a place called Devil's bridge?" Hermione stared up at him in astonishment.

"It's perfectly safe, the dog's soul was taken and now it's safe for everyone," Ron said as if this was obvious.

"What about the poor dog?" Hermione asked, outraged.

"Hermione! This was years ago, dark ages stuff. The dog was sacrificed so the people could be safe. it was a doggie martyr."

She shook her head.

"You're going insane over a game of Knock Down Ginger and yet the Devil Bridge Dead Dog is perfectly fine."

"They have a Jacob's Ladder there too," Ron said, tilting his head to one side.

"And by this you mean...?"

"A wonky stone stairway by a waterfall."

"Oh, well that is nice," she said, pleasantly surprised.

She rose up on tiptoes and kissed him, softly, on the lips. He lifted her up a little way and kissed her deeper before humming and breaking away to rub his lips together.

"You have that fruit tasting stuff on again don't you?"

She nodded.

"It's nice." He smiled.

"So we're packing a bag and going to Devil's Bridge for the night." She dropped back down, flat onto her feet, and took his hands in her own.

He looked down at their feet and his shoulders fell.

"I'm sorry I'm such a... Sorry about this. I just have a really bad feeling ab-"

"Whatever makes you feel better," she said as he dipped her head to peer up at him. "I'm sorry you though I didn't take what happened to you seriously. It must have been horrible."

"I've had worse nights," he said with a one shouldered shrug and a half smile.

"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have tried to find reason in it and understand that...it just upset you."

"I really hate tempting fate y'know?"

"And you're usually right, like with Voldemort name. I trust your instincts and respect them. Let's go to Wales and see this waterfall of yours. Then we can have a nice night as Mr and Mrs Smith."

"But my name's Weasley."

"Yes I know but for a laugh, lets say we're Mr and Mrs Smith."

"How is that funny?" Ron frowned.

"Because people will think we're having an affair."

"How come?"

"Never mind," she sighed and set off to pack.


Ron was grinning as soon as the door of the little room of the guest house closed.

Hermione began to unpack while exploring the bathroom, examining the wardrobe and admiring the view.

"I said we wouldn't have the inclusive meals because I think it'll be nice to go out for dinner. What do you think? Also, I asked for one of those do not disturb signs to put on the door but they don't have them because they don't come knocking like they do in hotels. Don't you prefer this to a hotel?"

"I wouldn't know, Mrs Smith," Ron said, still grinning as he curled his arms around her from behind, "I've never been to one before."

"And I picked up some pamphlets about local sights to see and walking tours, we should have bought some wellies and anoraks, but we'll make do with one of those flimsy cheap cagoules they sell at the corner shop."

He nuzzled into the side of her neck and brushed his lips against her skin.

"Mmmmm, anoracks, wellies and cagoules...you know how to turn me on."

Hermione suddenly realised that Ron wasn't planning on leaving the bed, let alone the room.

"What brought this on?" She said as she turned in his arms and draped hers around his neck.

"It's Mischief Night and nobody's going to be banging on our door so we're...going to have to bang...each other!" His grin almost split his face in two.

"You're really excited about this aren't you?" She laughed.

"I've never had sex with a married woman before," Ron said, gleefully.

As he moved with her across the room, until the back of her legs bumped into the foot of the bed, Hermione marvelled at the change in him when the weight of worry was off his shoulders.

"You're like a kid again," she said in wonder, "where'd that serious Auror man go?"

Ron leaned forward and they tumbled onto the mattress, bouncing a little as they began to kiss. Hermione's hands fumbled around until they got a grip on Ron's jacket and pushed it back off his shoulders and then pulled it off completely.

"Nothing bad can happen at Devil's Bridge," Ron said as he crawled forward and straddled her, "now if we were in Truelove I'd be worried that my balls were going to be tied to a rabid goat or something but here..."

She reached up and crushed her mouth over his. They closed their eyes and pushed their tongues forward until they were curling together like a Yin and Yang symbol. She pulled Ron down on top of her and then rolled so he was underneath her.

"I love you Mr Smith," she gasped as pushed her fingers through his hair and then curled them around his skull to hold his head in place for a deep snog.

He was sucking on her tongue as if it was a piece of caramel melting in his mouth. He lapped at her mouth and massaged her lips with his own. She sighed into him and he broke the kiss to pant into her face.

"I'm sorry I was so weird about the Mischief night stuff but I really di-"

"We get to do this, you never have to apologise for wanting to do this," she kissed him firmly and they both grunted, then moaned, into the others mouth, "I love this."

Ron rolled her onto her back again and pulled her top up her body and over her head, while she lifted her arms. Just as he threw it aside and moved in to kiss her neck they heard a knock on the door.

"Oh what?" Ron growled and flung himself away from Hermione to storm across the floor and fling open the door.

A startled young woman stood at the door, clearly wary of Ron's dishevelled and disgruntled appearance at the door, and lifted a small platter of cream cakes.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, I just wondered if you and your wife would like..." she looked at the platter and then at Ron. "You're on your honeymoon aren't you? Never interrupt honeymooners, that's the rule, I'm so sorry."

"You knocked to give us cake?" Ron said, clarifying that this wasn't another pestering prankster.

"I did, yes, sorry."

Ron looked at the large silver plate full of cream cakes and then back up at the young woman.

"Can we have them all?"

"Of course you can!" She said, jumping and then handing over the platter.

Ron grinned at her and then winked before kicking the door closed with his foot and turning to Hermione.

"You and your stomach," Hermione was sighing as she sat up on the bed.

"No, I was thinking of your stomach," Ron said as he scooped a large cream filled choux pastry and approached her.

Hermione giggled nervously and shifted on the bed.

Ron perched on the corner of the bed and set down the platter. He held the cream filled pastry before him and flicked his tongue out to taste the cream.

"Mmmmmm."

Then he scooped the cream out and began smearing it over Hermione's stomach.

"Yup, this stuff went right where you don't want it, just like you said," Ron said before licking his lips and stooping over so his face was hovering above her newly decorated belly, "I'm gonna have to do something about this."

Hermione flung herself flat onto her back and closed her eyes with a groan.

"Honeymooners don't know what they're missing!"

"You can moon me with a honey coated arse later on," Ron murmured against her cream slathered belly before dragging his tongue along the crest of one of her hipbones.

"Mmmmmmm..." Hermione moved beneath his tongue as if she was on the receiving end of a full body snog.

Ron was licking his platter clean. Sucking clots of cream and flakes of light choux pastry from the smooth, glistening surface, before plundering the well in the centre. Hermione started giggling as he wriggled his tongue right down into her navel and soon she was gripping the hair at the back off his head and shoving it downward.

"Knock knock," Ron said as he slithered down her body and held her thighs with both hands, "I want cake and I'll keep on knocking until you give me some."

"What if I don't?" Hermione said as she slid her hands down her body and unbuttoned her trousers, shimmying them off beneath his body.

"Maybe I'll knock harder," Ron kissed the inside of her thigh as her pink skin was exposed, "or maybe I'll pester you until you come after me with a shoe."

"Put you over my knee and give you a good spanking?" Hermione said with a sigh and a wicked chuckle.

"Oh that'd be good," Ron said as he nuzzled her thin, pale blue, knickers.

"Eat an éclair!" She made him jump with her abrupt order and he started up the length of her body at her face.

"You want me to eat an éclair?" Ron repeated.

Hermione shuffled her trousers off and kicked them away from where they were bunched about her ankles. She grabbed the pillow behind her head with both hands and nodded with a 'Mmmm-hmmmmm'.

Ron sat up and reached back to grab an éclair. When he turned back Hermione was peeling off her knickers with one hand while reaching for him with the other. Her hand was sliding up and down his denim-clad thigh and she was looking at him with huge dark eyes.

"I want you to eat the whole thing with no hands," she said, voice husky and hungry, "and I want to serve it to you."

Ron swallowed and looked down, between her legs, and then back up at her. He was still holding the chocolate cream cake in his hand. She slipped the phallic pastry from his palm and placed it between hr legs.

Ron licked his lips and slid his hands up both her legs until he was holding them apart, éclair on display before him.

"I see by the latch, there is something to catch," Ron began to say in a playful, sing-song voice.

"Eat it!" Hermione growled.

Ron began to wolf the éclair down, almost literally from the noises he was making between her legs, and Hermione arched her back away from the bed and thanked the stars for her orally fixated boyfriend.

"I LOVE BEING MRS SMITH!" She screamed out just as Ron plundered the last of the cream with the tip of his talented tongue.

"How would Mrs Smith feel about becoming Mrs Weasley?" Ron asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and reached back to pick a bite size, pink, rose macaroon off the platter.

He lay alongside her and held the layers of pink discs and fragrant cream to her lips.

"I would love to be Mrs Weasley," she said as she reached forward and plucked the delicacy from between his fingers. "I hate Cornwall for you," she devoured and swallowed the sweet treat and then reached for Ron's lips, "I'll run away from every Mischief Night with you," she kissed him and they sucked upon the sweetness of each other's tongues, "I'll pretend to be having an affair with you, "she pressed him down into the mattress, "I'll honey coat my backside for you."

"How about you take my jeans off for me?" Ron suggested as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Get it all off," Hermione said as she set about unfastening his fly.

Ron was a very fast stripper, she put it down to him having to get into the one bathroom at the Burrow before five older brothers made it filthy and disgusting. Either that or he just loved to be naked.

She loved him naked too.

"I'm going to decorate you," she said as she lifted three fruit tarts from the platter of cakes and picked two berries from the shiny glaze, "lie still for me and I'll..."

She placed the blueberries onto Ron's nipples, where they stuck thanks to the glossy glaze. Then she lifted a halved strawberry and set it over his heart, smiling to herself in a way that made Ron laugh.

"Don't jiggle about, it'll slip!" She said as she lifted two pieces of Kiwi fruit from the rapidly emptying tartlet case.

She laid them on each of his shoulders and then pushed him flat onto his back so he couldn't watch anymore.

"Don't move, I'm not finished yet, and if any of this falls off I'm tying you to a tree."

"As long as you're not leaving me there for the night..." Ron said with a nervous laugh. "Promise to tie me somewhere warm?"

"Bed all right?" Hermione dragged a mandarin segment across his belly, tickling him a little and he had to bit his lip to keep his blueberry nipples from rolling off.

She lowered a cherry into his belly button and sat back on her haunches to admire her fruity Ron. She put a segment of peach between her teeth and advanced towards his face with it protruding like a glistening orange tongue. Ron lifted his head off the pillow and reached for her, careful not to let the fruit slide off his body as he did, and she fed him the peach from mouth to mouth.

"Fruit's nice too," she said as she licked her sweet, sticky lips, and then pushed them against Ron's to suck at them, "just as nice as chocolate and cream."

"Nothing wrong with a bit of chocolate and cream with your fruit though," Ron said and leaned hard into a kiss as she slowly pulled away, coaxing him along after her.

He felt a slice of kiwi slipping from his shoulder and fell back onto the pillow with a chuckle. Hermione lunged at him to catch the piece of fruit as it fell and ate it while running her hand down his arm. She pinned it down at the elbow and then stooped to lap at the viscous juices and syrupy glaze left behind.

"You make a yummy fruity tart, Mr Smith," she said as she moved to gobble up the kiwi from his other shoulder.

"Wait 'till you get your chops around my ginger snap," Ron laughed before biting his lip as she trailed kisses along his collarbone and then began nuzzling into the side of his neck. "What did you put there that was so delicious?"

She looked up and kept her eyes on him as she nibbled on his earlobe.

"You."

He moved his arm and squeezed her bottom with his large hand. She kissed him behind the ear and then on the lips, Adam's apple, chest, and then tickled along his ribs with her lips.

"You're wicked," Ron said through his giggles.

She arched her eyebrow and then swooped upon his strawberry heart, devouring it in one go. She sucked at his skin until she left a mark, a strawberry shaped mark, where her treat had been, and then set about plucking the blueberries from his nipples.

The first simply made Ron catch his breath but the second urged him to lift his hips and rub himself against her.

"Not yet," Hermione purred, "I have to clean you up first."

With that she took each of his nipples between her lips and sucked the sticky glaze off.

"Oh God!" Ron clenched his fists and closed his eyes, his nipples being a particularly sensitive area when it came around to foreplay, and he squirmed below the waist as she suckled the last of the sugary gel away.

"Just need to lose that cherry and we're done," she said as she slithered down his long body and dug the rich, cherry out from his perfect belly button.

"We are far from done," Ron groaned.

She chewed on the cherry, releasing the juices into her mouth and sucking on them, indulgently.

"Don't you worry," she said, pausing to swallow the last of her fruity-Ron-tart, "I've still got room for your ginger snap."

Just as ginger was about to start snapping there was a knock on the door.

"GO AWAY!" They both shouted.

This was going to be the most mischievous night of all.