HP Fic: Trouble's Brewing (5/5), R/Hr, NC-17
Title: Trouble's Brewing, chapter 5
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Words: 1882 (this chapter only)
Summary: Ron and Hermione, years after the final battle, are married. Shouldn't everything be perfect? Or maybe, just maybe, a potion (but not any potion, mind you) could spice things up a bit.
Notes/Warnings: NC-17 for sex, but no violence at all. And hey, this is the end, so if you're reading this, thanks!
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
"It's no good," Ron said suddenly, pulling back and turning his face away from hers. "I can't do it."
"Ron, you'll be fine," she soothed, running a hand over his cheek and trying to get him to look at her again.
"I'm sure I would be, but I just can't do it. It's too strange. I'm sorry."
Her body cried out with pain at the idea that all this need would have no way to release, but Ron seemed very upset and that was much more important than this one moment, among the many they'd shared before.
"I know. I remember how frightened I was," she told him.
"I don't know how you did it," he said, looking at her with a measure of awe. "And it hurt too, that first time, didn't it? How did you ever let me in that way? The invasion ... I just can't imagine it."
"It wasn't an invasion. We weren't fighting a war. It was lovely," she said, looking purposefully into his eyes. "Or don't you remember?"
"What? All forty-five seconds of it?" he said, grinning just a little.
"Are you sure you don't want to give it another try?" she asked, but he shook his head immediately and she knew from the look on his face that there was no changing his mind.
"Can I ask you something?" he said, sounding quite hesitant.
"Ron, we're in bed with no clothes on, each of us trapped in the other's body. I'm not sure anything is out of bounds at this point."
"Why did you do it? Brew the potion, I mean," he said, not sounding accusatory, but truly curious.
"I told you," she said. "I thought you wanted this, from what you said before. I thought you wanted to know what it felt like for me. And it didn't sound so horrible to me, either."
"I know that's what you said before, but it was ages ago that I said that. Why did you think about it again now?"
Hermione turned away, pulling her arms protectively around herself.
"Hermione ... you can tell me. You're obviously upset."
"I thought ... you were bored with me. I was just trying to make things more interesting."
There was a long silence, during which Hermione reconsidered every theory she had to explain the cooling off of their sex life. Did he want a divorce? Was he tired of her? Was there someone else?
"Bored?" he said, sounding truly flummoxed.
"Well, yes," she said, feeling worse with every word that she choked out. It took one sort of courage to go through with a crazy plan like this, but it took a much rarer breed of courage to begin the conversation she knew they had to have. "It's been quite ... routine ... recently. You've been tired a lot, I know, but it just seems like you don't have much interest in me anymore," she said, trying not to cry.
"Hermione," he breathed, pulling her still-larger body awkwardly into his arms, stubbornly holding her as he would have if they were in their proper forms. "That's not it at all. I've just thought you didn't ... well ... I didn't think you were all that interested in ... things. I felt as though it was my idea all the time, and that you didn't really ... sounds like we were both keen, though, and just didn't say anything to each other." He laughed, and though Hermione didn't want to laugh at first, she soon joined in along with him. It was a bit funny, in an ironic sort of way.
"How did this happen?" she asked, expecting no answer in particular. Ron shrugged behind her and squeezed her more tightly. "We both thought the other didn't want to ... but we did, I suppose ... isn't that what this means? We just stopped talking."
"Who would have ever believed, after watching us row like gladiators back in school, that we'd ever get into a fix like this?"
"We're not those children anymore, Ron. And I do remember that we had a misunderstanding or two back then. I thought we'd grown out of that, though. Like that terrible row we had the night of the Yule Ball."
"But we'd be better off screaming at each other than having this silence, yeah? There was a bit of truth in that fight ... you admitted how much you'd wanted me to ask you to the ball, for instance," he said, not quite able to keep the smirk off his face.
She clapped him on the shoulder in mock anger and the two of them laughed again. Ron might fancy himself thick, Hermione mused, but he had a way of drawing rather remarkable conclusions when he put his mind to it. Anything was better than jumping to conclusions without talking to one another first.
"We'll never do this again," Hermione resolved, turning to look at him, to convey how much she meant what she was saying.
"If you mean that I'll never let you rook me into taking Polyjuice Potion again, then you're right."
"Ron," she said, exasperated. "I meant that-"
"I know what you meant," he said softly against her ear. "I love you, Hermione. I love you more when you're in your proper body, mind," he added, and she could feel his lips curving into a smile. "Let's just wait this out and put our new inside knowledge to good use."
They talked easily, holding the sheet up over themselves like a tent. They laughed and told stories, just as they had on their wedding night, once they'd finally become to exhausted to move. Hermione was surprised at how quickly the remainder of the hour passed before she felt the effects of the potion coming to an end. Their change back into their proper bodies wasn't nearly as horrible as the original transformation had been, as though they were both welcoming it with open arms. It might have been the most wonderful moment of Hermione's life so far, when she felt the prickle of Ron's stubble-covered chin against her forehead again.
"You know I love you," Ron said, as he looked down at her in the darkness of the room. "I don't need you to be anything else, and I don't need to know anything else. I just want to feel you around me and know how right we are together."
"If we ever have a misunderstanding like this again, I'm hexing us both," she added.
"Right," he agreed, pulling her into the most blessedly normal kiss they'd ever shared.
His hands brushed over her breasts and she twitched in anticipation. "Your body gets so tense," she whispered. "Like a coiled spring."
"Didn't you know already what you do to me?"
She couldn't answer, arching against him as he applied pressure to one hardening nipple with two fingers.
"I can't wait," she whispered. "I can still feel all of your impatience," she said, wickedly.
He rolled her to her back and settled on top of her and she wondered at the difficulty of such a maneuver. She hadn't known where to put her legs or how to shift her weight when she'd been inside his body. She glanced to the side to see his slim, but toned bicep bulge under the strain of holding himself up.
"That's harder than it looks," she acknowledged, pushing her hips into him. "That might be the sexiest thing I've ever seen," she added, feeling emboldened. Even during their first year of marriage when they'd made love nearly every day, she'd never before felt so free to tell him what she was feeling. It made her heart race and she was still afraid of sounding silly to him, but his reaction seemed to be anything but amusement.
"Say it again," he said, thrusting against her and pushing her into the mattress under his weight.
"You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen," she said, looking into his eyes and finding nothing but love and acceptance there.
"Then you have no idea what you look like right now," he told her, and she felt like the most beautiful creature in the world.
She felt him easing inside her, and she could swear he was being much more gentle than he'd ever been before. She pulled back to smile at him a bit and he smiled back, an expression that admitted his newfound appreciation for her.
"You're fine, Ron. You're not hurting me."
He finished that first thrust, punctuating it with a sudden intensity that stole her breath. He rotated his hips before pulling away, and she whispered something that came to her so quickly that she honestly couldn't recall what she'd said as soon as the words passed from her lips.
"Fuck, Hermione," he swore, driving into her again as he leaned down and kissed her, his tongue immediately invading her mouth.
She pushed against him, finding the friction she needed as their bodies moved against each other. His thrusts became slower, staying inside her and pushing hard, just as she needed.
"Is this ... do you need ... " he said, apparently unable to complete his thought.
"It is," she said, also unequal to the task of finding words to convey everything she wished she could say. "I love you," she said, hoping that would tell him what he needed to know.
"I love you," he said, moving faster and using one arm to brace her hip higher off the mattress, changing the angle of their bodies as they moved.
So many thoughts raced through her head as she watched him move over her. "Please, Ron," she begged, as though he was purposefully withholding something from her that she needed. He slowed for a few thrusts, making her whimper at losing the intensity of his quicker pace. "Please," she asked again, and she saw in his face the moment that her pleading broke him.
His hand released her hip and snaked between them, playing over her just above where they were joined, and she threw her head back into the twisted sheets beneath her. She felt as though she would burn up, like there was a pressure inside her she couldn't possibly survive, until it gave way, leaving an intense brightness exploding within her. She felt Ron react to her body as it contracted around him, suffusing her with his warmth with a few more strong thrusts before he relaxed against her, cradling her head gently against his shoulder.
"We'll never do this again," she said, as soon as words returned to her.
Ron pulled back and looked at her in mock alarm. "Now, if you'd told me that was the last time we were going to do that, I would have made it last a bit longer."
"You know what I mean," she said, whacking him lightly on the shoulder with the back of her hand. "We'll never get into a rut like that again."
"No, we won't," he agreed, yawning widely as he spoke.
"You're tired," she said, observing the obvious. "Go to sleep."
"All right," he said, tiredly. "You too," he slurred, lapsing quickly into a quiet snore that she knew would soon be not very quiet at all.
"I will," she whispered. "As soon as I finish convincing myself never to buy a single lacewing fly again."
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Words: 1882 (this chapter only)
Summary: Ron and Hermione, years after the final battle, are married. Shouldn't everything be perfect? Or maybe, just maybe, a potion (but not any potion, mind you) could spice things up a bit.
Notes/Warnings: NC-17 for sex, but no violence at all. And hey, this is the end, so if you're reading this, thanks!
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
"It's no good," Ron said suddenly, pulling back and turning his face away from hers. "I can't do it."
"Ron, you'll be fine," she soothed, running a hand over his cheek and trying to get him to look at her again.
"I'm sure I would be, but I just can't do it. It's too strange. I'm sorry."
Her body cried out with pain at the idea that all this need would have no way to release, but Ron seemed very upset and that was much more important than this one moment, among the many they'd shared before.
"I know. I remember how frightened I was," she told him.
"I don't know how you did it," he said, looking at her with a measure of awe. "And it hurt too, that first time, didn't it? How did you ever let me in that way? The invasion ... I just can't imagine it."
"It wasn't an invasion. We weren't fighting a war. It was lovely," she said, looking purposefully into his eyes. "Or don't you remember?"
"What? All forty-five seconds of it?" he said, grinning just a little.
"Are you sure you don't want to give it another try?" she asked, but he shook his head immediately and she knew from the look on his face that there was no changing his mind.
"Can I ask you something?" he said, sounding quite hesitant.
"Ron, we're in bed with no clothes on, each of us trapped in the other's body. I'm not sure anything is out of bounds at this point."
"Why did you do it? Brew the potion, I mean," he said, not sounding accusatory, but truly curious.
"I told you," she said. "I thought you wanted this, from what you said before. I thought you wanted to know what it felt like for me. And it didn't sound so horrible to me, either."
"I know that's what you said before, but it was ages ago that I said that. Why did you think about it again now?"
Hermione turned away, pulling her arms protectively around herself.
"Hermione ... you can tell me. You're obviously upset."
"I thought ... you were bored with me. I was just trying to make things more interesting."
There was a long silence, during which Hermione reconsidered every theory she had to explain the cooling off of their sex life. Did he want a divorce? Was he tired of her? Was there someone else?
"Bored?" he said, sounding truly flummoxed.
"Well, yes," she said, feeling worse with every word that she choked out. It took one sort of courage to go through with a crazy plan like this, but it took a much rarer breed of courage to begin the conversation she knew they had to have. "It's been quite ... routine ... recently. You've been tired a lot, I know, but it just seems like you don't have much interest in me anymore," she said, trying not to cry.
"Hermione," he breathed, pulling her still-larger body awkwardly into his arms, stubbornly holding her as he would have if they were in their proper forms. "That's not it at all. I've just thought you didn't ... well ... I didn't think you were all that interested in ... things. I felt as though it was my idea all the time, and that you didn't really ... sounds like we were both keen, though, and just didn't say anything to each other." He laughed, and though Hermione didn't want to laugh at first, she soon joined in along with him. It was a bit funny, in an ironic sort of way.
"How did this happen?" she asked, expecting no answer in particular. Ron shrugged behind her and squeezed her more tightly. "We both thought the other didn't want to ... but we did, I suppose ... isn't that what this means? We just stopped talking."
"Who would have ever believed, after watching us row like gladiators back in school, that we'd ever get into a fix like this?"
"We're not those children anymore, Ron. And I do remember that we had a misunderstanding or two back then. I thought we'd grown out of that, though. Like that terrible row we had the night of the Yule Ball."
"But we'd be better off screaming at each other than having this silence, yeah? There was a bit of truth in that fight ... you admitted how much you'd wanted me to ask you to the ball, for instance," he said, not quite able to keep the smirk off his face.
She clapped him on the shoulder in mock anger and the two of them laughed again. Ron might fancy himself thick, Hermione mused, but he had a way of drawing rather remarkable conclusions when he put his mind to it. Anything was better than jumping to conclusions without talking to one another first.
"We'll never do this again," Hermione resolved, turning to look at him, to convey how much she meant what she was saying.
"If you mean that I'll never let you rook me into taking Polyjuice Potion again, then you're right."
"Ron," she said, exasperated. "I meant that-"
"I know what you meant," he said softly against her ear. "I love you, Hermione. I love you more when you're in your proper body, mind," he added, and she could feel his lips curving into a smile. "Let's just wait this out and put our new inside knowledge to good use."
They talked easily, holding the sheet up over themselves like a tent. They laughed and told stories, just as they had on their wedding night, once they'd finally become to exhausted to move. Hermione was surprised at how quickly the remainder of the hour passed before she felt the effects of the potion coming to an end. Their change back into their proper bodies wasn't nearly as horrible as the original transformation had been, as though they were both welcoming it with open arms. It might have been the most wonderful moment of Hermione's life so far, when she felt the prickle of Ron's stubble-covered chin against her forehead again.
"You know I love you," Ron said, as he looked down at her in the darkness of the room. "I don't need you to be anything else, and I don't need to know anything else. I just want to feel you around me and know how right we are together."
"If we ever have a misunderstanding like this again, I'm hexing us both," she added.
"Right," he agreed, pulling her into the most blessedly normal kiss they'd ever shared.
His hands brushed over her breasts and she twitched in anticipation. "Your body gets so tense," she whispered. "Like a coiled spring."
"Didn't you know already what you do to me?"
She couldn't answer, arching against him as he applied pressure to one hardening nipple with two fingers.
"I can't wait," she whispered. "I can still feel all of your impatience," she said, wickedly.
He rolled her to her back and settled on top of her and she wondered at the difficulty of such a maneuver. She hadn't known where to put her legs or how to shift her weight when she'd been inside his body. She glanced to the side to see his slim, but toned bicep bulge under the strain of holding himself up.
"That's harder than it looks," she acknowledged, pushing her hips into him. "That might be the sexiest thing I've ever seen," she added, feeling emboldened. Even during their first year of marriage when they'd made love nearly every day, she'd never before felt so free to tell him what she was feeling. It made her heart race and she was still afraid of sounding silly to him, but his reaction seemed to be anything but amusement.
"Say it again," he said, thrusting against her and pushing her into the mattress under his weight.
"You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen," she said, looking into his eyes and finding nothing but love and acceptance there.
"Then you have no idea what you look like right now," he told her, and she felt like the most beautiful creature in the world.
She felt him easing inside her, and she could swear he was being much more gentle than he'd ever been before. She pulled back to smile at him a bit and he smiled back, an expression that admitted his newfound appreciation for her.
"You're fine, Ron. You're not hurting me."
He finished that first thrust, punctuating it with a sudden intensity that stole her breath. He rotated his hips before pulling away, and she whispered something that came to her so quickly that she honestly couldn't recall what she'd said as soon as the words passed from her lips.
"Fuck, Hermione," he swore, driving into her again as he leaned down and kissed her, his tongue immediately invading her mouth.
She pushed against him, finding the friction she needed as their bodies moved against each other. His thrusts became slower, staying inside her and pushing hard, just as she needed.
"Is this ... do you need ... " he said, apparently unable to complete his thought.
"It is," she said, also unequal to the task of finding words to convey everything she wished she could say. "I love you," she said, hoping that would tell him what he needed to know.
"I love you," he said, moving faster and using one arm to brace her hip higher off the mattress, changing the angle of their bodies as they moved.
So many thoughts raced through her head as she watched him move over her. "Please, Ron," she begged, as though he was purposefully withholding something from her that she needed. He slowed for a few thrusts, making her whimper at losing the intensity of his quicker pace. "Please," she asked again, and she saw in his face the moment that her pleading broke him.
His hand released her hip and snaked between them, playing over her just above where they were joined, and she threw her head back into the twisted sheets beneath her. She felt as though she would burn up, like there was a pressure inside her she couldn't possibly survive, until it gave way, leaving an intense brightness exploding within her. She felt Ron react to her body as it contracted around him, suffusing her with his warmth with a few more strong thrusts before he relaxed against her, cradling her head gently against his shoulder.
"We'll never do this again," she said, as soon as words returned to her.
Ron pulled back and looked at her in mock alarm. "Now, if you'd told me that was the last time we were going to do that, I would have made it last a bit longer."
"You know what I mean," she said, whacking him lightly on the shoulder with the back of her hand. "We'll never get into a rut like that again."
"No, we won't," he agreed, yawning widely as he spoke.
"You're tired," she said, observing the obvious. "Go to sleep."
"All right," he said, tiredly. "You too," he slurred, lapsing quickly into a quiet snore that she knew would soon be not very quiet at all.
"I will," she whispered. "As soon as I finish convincing myself never to buy a single lacewing fly again."