I wanted to write a one-shot, and racked my brain on what it should be about. I thought "Well, Ron is always known for being blunt and funny…oh and swearing…a lot. What if…" And it went from there. I don't want to spoil the rest.

If it seems really silly and over the top, then I did something right. This is meant to be funny. Note the humor/romance genres I chose. I do have two types of lemons in this story. One you will find in this chapter and the other one (of the more smutty variety), will be in the next chapter. You have been warned!

And I Swear

Part 1 of 2

When you're in love the word sacrifice takes on a whole new meaning. Sacrifice means you give something of yourself for the greater good. The greater good, in this case, being the sake of the relationship you are in with your significant other. Not just any relationship is worthy of sacrifice, mind you. I'm talking about your one true love. Your heart, soul, and reason for fucking living. I know that Hermione is the only one who has ever, and will ever complete me so…completely.

Hermione is amazingly smart; the cleverest person anyone I know has ever known, and uses her intellect to solve the world's dilemmas and arithmancy problems. Whereas I use my brains for practical things, such as finding the baddies and remembering where I hid my chocolate frog stash (which changes weekly since Hermione always bloody finds them and chucks them out, stating how bad they are for my teeth.), and also for thinking of ways to steer any alone time with her towards shagging. See, my brain is dead useful when I want it to be.

She's also incredibly kind; a virtue that she has unwittingly passed onto me. I used to be an arsehole. Alright, I still am at times, but since meeting her she's sort of leveled me out a bit. Where I lack in brains and tact, she makes up for with intellect and etiquette.

But, do I complete her, you're asking? Well, I damn well hope so! The bird married me for fuck's sake. She says it was my 'passion for life', my 'humor', and the way I 'look into her soul' or some rubbish that made her fall in love with me. I tell her it's my wit and charm that fooled her…and because I'm bloody fantastic in bed. She scoffs at me, of course, but she can't deny it. I'm there with her when she's screaming out from under me, yelling things like 'You're a god, Ron!', and my personal favorite, 'My fucking king! Fuck me!'

Yes, Hermione Granger swears while she shags. I know, I was shocked, too, the first time, but what can I say? I know that girl inside and out. I can make her scream in ecstasy and in anger. It's a gift. The point is that she loves me for the mind blowing fuck sessions, but says it's my heart she sticks around for. Sure, Hermione.

Anyway, I was talking about sacrifice. I am about to do something that will make Hermione incredibly happy, but might make me go mad.

It all started when we were visiting her parents' home on a Sunday afternoon. We had just finished eating lunch and were sitting outside on their terrace drinking her mum's delicious as hell lemonade.

"Mum, this lemonade is delicious, as always," Hermione said, smacking her lips together.

It was hot as all fuck that day, being the middle of July, and I couldn't help but comment on it. "It's hot as bollocks out here," I said, pinching the front of my shirt away from me in order to get some non-existent breeze between my skin and my sweaty t-shirt. The Grangers have air conditioning inside their home. The best, most brilliant invention ever known to muggle kind, and we're sitting out here baking in the fucking sun.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded me from her whickered seat next to me.

"What?" I said, "It is, isn't it Hugo?" I looked up at Hermione's dad who just came out of the house with a plate full of scones. Her dad makes the best scones.

"Too right you are, Ron," he said with a chuckle and sat down with us and her mum, Luann. I smiled smugly at Hermione who wasn't too pleased.

"Well, you don't have to be so…verbal about it." Hermione said and reached out to pluck a scone from the plate and bit into it. I could be wrong, but I swear she was imagining the bit in her mouth was my own head. The fact that she was now chewing it like a piece of meat was another clue.

"Sorry," I mumbled, not wanting an argument. I took a deep breath and ducked into the neck hole of my shirt, blowing inside of it. I was hoping to create my own wind, but all I succeeded in was making me look like a bloody beach ball and feel light-headed.

"That never works, you know," Hermione muttered under her breath. I turn to glare at her, but she just took the mickey out of me, and I love it when she does that. She's also smirking meaning she did it humorously, which also means she's already forgiven for my 'vulgarity'.

"So how is work, Ron?" Luann asked as I was taking a scone.

"It's brilliant," I said. "Harry and I caught this one bad arse wizard in Knockturn Alley the other week. He was trying to sell illegal dragon eggs on the street. Can you believe it? Not too smart, that one." I paused and shoved the whole scone in my mouth, because the smell was reaching inside my nose and telling my brain to fucking eat it already!

"Oh, my god, that's so fucking good," I said after I swallowed and took a long drink from my lemonade, which also made me roll my eyes to the back of my head. Fuck, I love coming here, even just for the food. Her parents were also brilliant, of course.

"Ron! For goodness sake," Hermione yelled, making me almost choke on my damn drink. I didn't know what she was on about at first, and then I remembered I swore…again.

"Sorry, love. Sorry Luann, Hugo. I just really…love those scones," I said sheepishly, putting my glass down on glass top table.

"You would think," Luann said as she refilled my glass, "that after thirteen years knowing each other, six years being together, and 3 years of marriage, that you would learn not to swear in front of Hermione, Ron."

I sighed because that's not the first time we had this conversation. I can't help it that my words reach my tongue before my brain tells it to stop. Apparently, I don't possess that ability.

"And you would think after all that time that Hermione would learn to bloody deal with it," I said with a smile and took another, shorter, sip from my lemonade. I raised my eyebrows and peered over the glass at Hermione, and she's glaring at me. Not just the type of glare that said 'You're in trouble'. No, it was the type of glare that said 'I'm going to twist your bollocks off and make you eat them'. I don't quite like that glare, if you can imagine. Shit.

"Shit," I said and smacked my forehead. I heard Hugo laugh and when I looked at him I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ron, you're a riot," he said, unfazed by the disapproving looks I was getting from the ladies. Her mum was a bit more amused than Hermione, though. Bloody Snape, if he were alive, would have been more amused than Hermione.

"That's not funny," she said and threw the rest of her scone on the table. She paused, looked down at it and picked it up again, placing it on a napkin instead. I don't know why, but I found this incredibly hilarious. Even in a bad mood, Hermione takes time to do something properly. Hugo and I looked at each other and burst into another fit of laughter.

"Now why are you laughing?" Hermione said with her arms crossed.

"Honey, relax, they're just being silly," Luann said and pushed the scone towards Hermione.

Her dad and I always have a good time, mostly at Hermione's expense, to be honest. She usually takes it pretty well, smiling and waving us off, calling us 'childish'. This time it must have been all my swearing that has done her in. One time too many, perhaps?

I cleared my throat and summoned all the times that I have talked myself out of a row with her. Fixing a serious face I turned to her and said, "I'm sorry…again. I promise I won't swear." Then I said something that I probably should have kept to myself. "Are you going to eat that?" I pointed at her ripped scone sitting neatly on her napkin. I thought about her putting it there and a smile must have escaped my lips because next thing I knew she was standing up.

"That's it. I'm leaving," she said and grabbed her handbag from the floor. I stared at her, my mouth open, shocked. Was I really that bad? Or was it that 'time of the month'?

"Hermione!" Her dad stood up as she stepped out from the table. "Don't be upset, pumpkin."

"I'm not upset with you, dad. I'll talk to you later. Thank you for lunch and everything. Mom, I'll call you, yeah?"

"Honey, please don't go," Luann said and glared at me. I sat back in my chair, my eyes wide and, for once, my mouth shut.

I looked at Hermione and she glanced at me once before she disapparated with a more than necessary loud crack.

"Bloody hell," I said.

"Is why she left," Luann said quickly, referring to what I just said. Right, the swearing. Fuck.

"Sorry, I ruined the day for you guys. I'll talk to her," I said and stood up to help Luann clear the table and took the scones back to the kitchen. I couldn't help but sigh loudly in relief when the cold frigid wind from the air conditioner hit me in the face and froze the sweat on my shirt.

"Damn, that feels good. We'll have to get one of those," I said and grabbed another scone from the pile. I thought I should probably go after Hermione. She was most likely home, fuming on the sofa, making a mental list of all the ways to prepare my bollocks for dinner.

No, I think I'll wait.

"Don't you think you should go talk to her…now?" Luann said as she opened a cabinet and pulled out a thermos and plastic container with a lid. God, I love muggles.

"Nah," I said after swallowing and reaching for another one. Holy shit, I could shag each and every scone if it wasn't so bloody inappropriate. "I learned from experience to let her cool down a bit after she gets this angry. It's saved our marriage a few times, trust me." I nodded to reassure her and she shrugged before draining the remaining lemonade into the thermos.

"What are you going to do to make it up to her this time?" Hugo asked, sitting down on a stool at the kitchen island. I leaned back against the counter and crossed my arms.

"I dunno. I reckon flowers won't do it."

"Don't you know any spells that could stop you from swearing?" Hugo said. "If that's all she's upset about and you obviously can't seem to stop, then handle it magically…right?"

I thought about this. The more I thought about it the more brilliant I thought it was. As nonchalantly as I tried to make it seem, I really do hate when Hermione is upset. It kills me to think that she is at home angry with me. Don't get me wrong, I love our small banters and silly rows, but when she gets this mad, it's never any fun.

"You're brilliant, Hugo!" I exclaimed and grabbed my wand from my pocket. "Thanks. And thank you both for today. It was lovely, really."

"Anytime, Ron. Take care of our girl. I'm sure you'll fix this," Luann said and gave me a hug. She's a sweet woman and as much as she sometimes disagrees with my mannerisms, I know she loves me with her daughter. I take that very seriously. She gave me a bag with the lemonade filled thermos and the container of scones. I gave her another hug just for that.

"I will, I promise. Don't worry. You know us, always on about something," I said and kissed her cheek.

After hugging it out with Hugo I turned on the spot and disapparated…to the library.

Sometime in the last two years Diagon Alley built a large, extensive library; not as big as the one at Hogwarts, but one big enough to find almost any book you want to borrow. I was there searching for something that can tell me how to mend my dirty, filthy mouth and get Hermione back on my side. I didn't fancy going to bed angry that night. Sleeping next to an angry Hermione was like sleeping next to a dragon with a clogged up nose, huffing and puffing all night. No, thank you.

As I browsed through the section on behavioral spell books I couldn't help but think of the many times Hermione had dragged me there since they opened. I was put out those times, but by myself I was thankful as it helped me find the section rather quickly.

"Yes," I muttered as my finger stopped on the spine of a book called "101 Ways on How to Discipline Your Out of Control Teen Witch or Wizard: Including Spells and Potions to Stop Even the Worst 'Potty Mouth'"

Perfect.

I checked it out with the library card Hermione insisted I get - again I was thankful - and disapparated once again, back home.

I apparated straight into our living room and braced myself for the glare that I knew was waiting for me on the sofa. She wasn't there. I didn't hear anything, either. Where the bloody hell was she?

"What took you so long? Scared to come home?"

I twisted around, my Auror reflexes deceiving me as I put a hand to my chest, breathing hard. "Blimey, you fucking scared me, Hermione."

She was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a large wooden spoon covered in red sauce. Fuck, she's already preparing bollocks spaghetti. I best drop my trousers now and let her have at them.

"What are you…making?" I said as I stealthily tucked the book under the back of my shirt.

With her chin in the air she said, "I know it's early, but I was restless so I thought I would start dinner…what is that?" She pointed at me and leaned to the side to peer around me.

"Oh, just something I picked up," I said lamely. Then the book had to fall to the floor at that precise moment. Fuck my life.

"A book? That's what took you so long? Did you get me a book?" She crossed the room, dripping sauce on the floor as she went and went to grab it from the floor.

"No," I said and picked it up, holding it against my chest. "I got it for me. Something that might help both of us, actually."

She eyed me suspiciously and said, "Give it here then." I gave it to her.

I may be an Auror, fighting baddies with the great and powerful Harry Potter and interrogating them until they peed in their pants, but my wife has a way of making me fear for my life when she glares at me like that. Just as it is my gift to know how to make her scream, I assume this is her gift.

"You can't be serious, Ron," she said and gave me back the book. She grabbed the bag of lemonade and scones and, with a roll of those big beautiful eyes, she turned and walked back to the kitchen. Why does she always have to do that? Not every idea I have is ridiculous.

I kicked off my shoes, tossing them in the corner and followed her – and the food – to the kitchen. Using my wand I cleaned up the sauce on the floor as I went. I may be daft sometimes, but a clean floor always bodes well in my favor.

"Love, just hear me out," I said and slammed the book on the counter. She stood with her back to me at the stove, stirring her sauce inside the pot. I sniffed and wrinkled my nose. I love Hermione to death, but the woman cannot cook to save her life. I think I was supposed to smell spaghetti sauce and noodles, but all I got was a strange garlicy-burnt butter smell. It didn't matter, because I will eat it and smile and tell her it was delicious just like every other time it's her turn to cook. I offered to take on the duty indefinitely as a favor, but she wasn't having it. It might be time to have a talk with my mum about cooking lessons.

"I'm listening," she said and turned around after putting the spoon on the counter. Contradicting herself, she spoke instead. "You know I really hated leaving my parents house in a huff like that. It makes me look stupid."

"You're not stupid, Hermione," I said hoping to score a point.

"I know that," she said matter-of-factly. "I said 'look'. Anyway, I was so embarrassed the way you were laughing at me. And I really wish you would stop swearing so much, especially in front of mum and dad. It's very disrespectful."

"Your dad-"

"Is just like you, Ron," she interrupted. Didn't she say she was listening? "But he's still my dad. You need to learn some manners. I did not like what you said about me having to 'bloody deal with it'. What was that about?" Her face was turning redder and her voice was escalating.

"Poor attempt at humor?"

"Urrgh! You're so infuriating!" she yelled and slapped her hands on her thighs. Her balled up fists and red angry face just didn't go well with her 'Mrs. Good Lookin' is Cookin'' apron that I bought her as a gag gift for her birthday last year.

"I'm sorry! You know how I am, Hermione. You can't get mad every single time I swear. You'll be in a state for the rest of your life."

"Not funny," she said through her teeth. Talking without moving your lips is another sign of impending wrath.

"I wasn't trying to be funny. I'm serious. That's why I got this book. Look," I said and picked it up, pointing at the words "Potty Mouth".

"You think-"

"Er, Hermione!" I pointed behind her as red sauce flew out of the pot and splattered on the wall, counter and floor.

"Oh drat!" she exclaimed and used her wand to turn off the muggle stove. I didn't think the smell could get worse, but I was very wrong. Now it smelled like burnt butter and burnt garlic, as well as another indistinguishable charcoal smell.

She opened the oven and pulled out a tray of black, charred balls. I stupidly reached down and cupped my own bollocks, patting them, thankful that they were still attached, safely tucked inside my pants.

"What were those supposed to be?" I asked, trying to sound curious instead of amused.

"This," she said with her arms flailing wildly around the kitchen, "was dinner. I give up. Call for a pizza."

And with that Hermione ripped off her sauce spattered apron that now read 'Good Cookin', and threw it on the floor. Oh, the irony.

"I'll be in the shower," she said before she stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving me in the foul smelling mess. I walked out, took a deep clean breath, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

"Wait, aren't you going to clean this up?" I called after her.

Suddenly a shoe that I recognized were just on her feet, came sailing at me from the landing above, which I caught with one hand.

"You clean it!" I heard Hermione say then the bathroom door slammed.

I looked down at the blue and white trainer in my hand and shook my head, angry with myself for mucking everything up, again. I tossed it in the corner with my own trainers and set about cleaning the kitchen.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

A/N: So did you find the lemon…ade? Haha! I'm so freakin clever.

So, this was originally going to be a one-shot, but it got late into the night and I had to go to bed. I wanted to share what I have so far and this was a good place to stop. Part two will be where the M rating comes into play. Then that will be it. Only two parts, I promise!

Please review and let me know what you think!