First fanfic!
Title: The Pajama Party
Pairing: Hermione/Ron
Summary: Hermione thinks Ron is acting out a little fantasy, but is he?
Rating: R
Word Count: 2749
Written for inell’s Art Challenge, and inspired by _odella_’s fanart.
Any comments are appreciated :)
“You trust me, right?” he queried from across the bedroom. I raised my eyebrows at that. Well, I did trust him really, but I must admit I was a bit skeptical about this idea of his.
“Aw, come on ‘Mione” he whined as he walked towards me. “Please?” he whispered as he brushed a soft kiss across my brow.
Oh Merlin, he had invaded my personal space. Gods he smelled amazing. He was giving me his patented lopsided grin. I should be immune to it by now, but no, it had the desired effect he was hoping for: I gave a soft sigh. The lopsided grin of his had now transformed into a full on grin complete with wiggling eyebrows.
Does he really have to gloat like that? His eyes burned through my skin as they traveled up and down my body. They were no longer playful, but cloudy, intense.
‘Damn.’
Bugger, I was at the mentally cursing stage. Usually I can hold out against him better than this, but no, the cursing had started. He’s really rubbed off on me after all these years. Mmm rubbed off… dammit, ‘focus Hermione!’
I could feel the familiar warm flush spreading across my chest and face. “Ron,” I started, “You do realize that you’re incorrigible, right?”
“Nah, I don’t need much encouragement where you’re concerned” he countered as he began to slowly circle me. Stalk more like.
“Really Ron.” I began to lecture with my hands on my hips, the seduction momentarily forgotten. “Incorrigible and encouragement are two different words and that is not what I meant. Incorrigible is used to describe something or someone who cannot be corrected or reformed, especially in the sense of having bad habits.” I stated pointedly. “Whereas encouragement is to give support or help. For instance…” My voice trailed off as I found myself pulled flush against Ron’s broad chest. I heard a moan, or maybe it was a whimper. Semantics. Levi-o-sa, levio-sa. Was that him or me who made the noise though? He laughed softly. Must’ve been me then. Bloody hell. I could feel his body heat through my thin satin nightie.
Not fair, not fair. He nuzzled my neck, that sensitive hollow just below my earlobe. He calls it the…
“Hot for me?” he whispered.
Mmm yes. That’s what he calls it: the ‘hot for me’ spot.
“Maybe.” I responded with a grin of my own.
“Maybe?” He pulled away. “Tsk, tsk,” he chided as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. Now my eyes were riveted to his wet pink lips that know just where to kiss and nibble. I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted and he took advantage of it by clutching my hips with his nimble Qudditch roughened fingers. I’m really starting to see the value of Qudditch now- but all my thoughts fell away as his ginger colored head descended on one satin covered nipple which he laved with his tongue. My knees buckled and his hands gripped my waist more tightly as he crushed his groin against my stomach. I gasped at the contact, the heat, and his hardness. Pure fire and I felt as if I had spontaneously combusted.
Spontaneous combustion… maybe it is actually a myth. Oh! Perhaps it’s just a cover-up on the magical world’s part, to give a scientific explanation that Muggles would believe and understand, when in reality all reported cases were probably a witch or wizard Disapparating. No, of course not. Disapparition doesn’t leave ashes behind. Hmm. I’ll have to read up on this subject. I’m sure the magical world must be linked to this somehow. There must be a book that… Hmm… Mmm… oh yes.
‘God he really is brilliant at this.’ I thought as Ron blew softly against the wet spot he’d left on my nightie. “Oh yes.” He gave me a boyish grin. Oops I must have moaned out loud that time. Good thing I didn’t slip and start mumbling about spontaneous combustion. I don’t think he would appreciate it, even though the whole thought process began because he always makes me feel so hot.
He rolled my moistened nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he looked at the other, attention-deprived, nipple. “Now that won’t do. We wouldn’t want this one to feel left out now would we?” he murmured as he began to make slow, torturous circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue. Oh no we would not want it to be left out. Ohh. No not at all. My back arched and I wove my fingers through his hair, tugging him closer. I could feel his chuckle echo through my breast, my heart, my body; my knickers had gone damp with need… for him.
Ron lifted his head up. ‘No, no, no that really won’t do,’ I thought as I pushed his head back down. As far as I was concerned he could keep making his way down, down, and even more down.
“Minx,” he laughed as he disentangled my hands from his scalp. “Good things come to those who wait,” he quipped as he let go of my hips.
Two can play at that game. I bit my lip and then smiled and pouted, “But I’m wet for you now.”
His eyes glazed over. “Fuck,” he moaned.
“Language Ronald,” I admonished.
Ron shook his head rapidly from side to side, trying to clear it. I just stood there and admired the telltale tenting of his pajama trousers. I wondered what he would think if he knew how I much I actually loved his foul mouth in the bedroom. He’d probably have a fit and pass out, just like if he knew how often I curse in my head. All that cursing makes me feel sexy. Wanton. Very un-Hermione like. My eyes were still glued to his trousers. Gods I wanted to taste him. Get a grip! Yes, grip. Sweet Merlin I need to stop this double entendre nonsense! I tore my eyes away from his arousal; mentally berating myself for acting like a randy 16-year-old wizard.
Ron cleared his throat and I looked up. “Right,” he squeaked. I grinned. I love it when he gets squeaky, even now as a wizard of 21. He coughed rather violently. “Right,” he tried again, this time speaking in his normal deep timbre. “Can I please put it on now? I promise it will be worth it.”
I eyed the silk scarf in his hand with more appreciation than I had before as my randy 16-year-old-wizard side reared its horny head. Oh gods, more visuals. There has got to be a potion for this. I could feel my still damp knickers between my legs and even though I’m guilty of having my mind jump all over the place at the most inappropriate times I found myself only wanting to jump on my boyfriend. Yes, that was the most brilliant thought I’d had all night.
The blood under my skin was humming, craving what it knew was to come as I turned around and whispered huskily, “So put it on me then.”
“Right. Right, I’m on that.” Ron stammered as he stood behind me and lifted the blindfold before my eyes. His hands shook as he tried to knot the scarf behind my head. “Bloody, buggering, arse-backwards thing…” he cursed.
“Ronald…”
“Language, right, sorry.”
“No, not that. Hurry. I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
Ron gulped audibly behind me as he successfully knotted the scarf. I could hear him pad around me to face me as he took both my hands in his. The feeling of his hot callused hands, the smooth cool satin nightie against my breasts (still wet from Ron’s earlier ministrations) was all heightened by the presence of the soft, silky scarf.
“This might be the best birthday I’ve ever had Ron. When do I get to unwrap my present?”
“Naked…Dobby…Hagrid…dancing…Luna…” he muttered.
What the hell? “What the hell?”
“Uh… what?”
“What were you just muttering?”
“Nothing!”
“Ron.”
“No really-“
“Ron!”
“Fine! I was thinking about Dobby and Hagrid dancing naked together in the Room of Requirement as Luna gave commentary. Oh Merlin, I think I may be sick.”
“You’re sick all right!” I was outraged. All this build up and then he gets all… oh gods, does that get him off? Is it some fantasy of his? I always thought he’d think about doing it on a broom. Not, well, that!
I tried to yank my hands from Ron’s grasp, but he held on tightly. “Ronald Bilius Weasley you let go of me this instant!” Suddenly I felt intense pressure coming at me from all sides. No he wouldn’t dare. Apparently he did dare; That bastard had just used Side-Along-Apparition on me! Just as quickly as the pressure began it ended. We had arrived to wherever the hell he had abducted me to. Catching him off guard I wrenched my hands free and immediately brought them to the back of my head to untie the scarf. Before I could loosen the blindfold I heard Ron’s voice shout “incarcerous”. My hands and feet were bound with ropes.
“You had better make sure these ropes are strong enough to hold me for life,” I growled, “otherwise I will incarcerous something very dear to you the minute I get free.”
“Hermione…” he began nervously.
I thought I had kept control of myself rather well as I had only growled my threat moments before, but really. I think I was entitled to give him the verbal slaying of his life.
“Ronald,” I screeched, “you are the world’s biggest prat! Did you think this is what I would want for my birthday? To be kidnapped? You put a blindfold on me for the sole purpose of abducting me! How silly of me to think that you were going to do something, like, oh I don’t know… lick my entire body, or transfigure your wand into a quill and run it along me! No instead you, and warped little fantasy…”
I stopped mid-tirade when I heard a cough. A feminine sounding cough.
“What. Was. That.”
Silence.
“Ronald…”
“Um, well, you see,” he sounded beyond panicked, bordering hysterical, “oh bloody hell. I’m going to let you go and I’ll take off the blindfold, just don’t hex me.”
“Ron…”
“Okay, just give me a 10 second head start before you hex me.”
I rigidly stood there. He must’ve been able to feel my eyes scorching a hole into his head from behind the blindfold because he muttered the counter curse and then removed it.
I blinked, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me after having been in the dark for awhile now, but no, it was no trick. There in front of me was the entire Weasley family. Oddly enough, in their night things.
There was Bill sitting on the kitchen counter with Fleur standing between his legs. He was trying to stop a knowing smile from sliding across his scarred face, but failing miserably at it. Fleur just stood there looking scandalized.
There was Charlie, leaning on the doorjamb between the kitchen and the living room with his arms crossed, shaking with silent laughter. Next to him, in front of the fireplace, were Harry and Ginny. Ginny’s eyebrows were raised. She looked unsure as to whether or not she should laugh at the situation or be outraged on my behalf. Harry, probably inheriting Ron’s ‘git’ gene from overexposure to it after all these years, was openly chuckling.
I could feel my whole body shaking and I knew I was a brighter red than Ron had been after he had fallen asleep on the beach during our holiday to Australia last year.
I saw Percy, sitting at the kitchen table, his mouth pursed as though he were preparing himself for a lecture. Penelope sat beside him, patting his hand and shaking her head ‘no’ at him.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood behind them. Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were open so wide her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. I knew the words ‘scarlet woman’ must be running through her head. Mr. Weasley stood with his arm around her, attempting to give me a reassuring smile. It didn’t work; his parents must think I’m a slag now!
It felt like an hour had passed, when in reality it was probably only about 30 seconds. Looking towards the door that led into the backyard I saw what I had dreaded from the moment I had opened my eyes and realized where I was. The twins. They both had identical Cheshire cat grins on their faces, looking as though Christmas had come early. As expected, they broke the silence.
“Well Hermione-” said Fred.
“It looks like-“ continued George.
“You were already licked!” finished Fred triumphantly.
I glared at them at a loss as their words had me a bit confused. Then I remembered that I had shouted just minutes ago that I had hoped Ron was going to lick me all over while I was blindfolded. I then followed where Fred and George’s eyes were currently staring. My chest. My still damp chest. The chest that had two dark, damp circles in strategic locations. Horrified, I looked back up. Ron. Was. Dead.
Ron. I hadn’t seen him in my scan of the kitchen, which could only mean one thing. The coward was hiding. I turned around and saw him cowering behind me, looking as though someone had just told him Voldemort had come back from the dead. Hrmph. He could only be so lucky.
“Surprise?” he said weakly.
“Ron,” I said in a deadly calm voice.
“’Mione,” he pleaded.
“10 seconds.”
He took a deep breath and quickly rattled off: “It was supposed to be a surprise. And, well, yeah it was definitely that, but I wanted to catch you off guard so that’s why we were having such a late party. A pajama party, like Muggles have. I wasn’t expecting to get carried away earlier with you, but well, you were so bloody you and I lost my head a bit.” He was red in the face and panting now.
“Not 10 seconds to explain,” I coldly stated, “10 seconds to run.”
His eyes widened at that.
“10, 9, 8…”
And he was gone, pushing past the twins to get outside.
I got to 5 before I took off after him
“You only gave him 5 seconds!” Harry shouted after me. It seems everyone had decided to follow behind us. Hardly surprising, that.
“The prat has longer legs,” I yelled back at Harry.
“You’d think he’d have enough sense to Apparate away.” I heard Charlie say.
“Nah, in his state he’d splinch himself.” commented Bill.
“He’d be better off splinching himself then having Hermione catch him. That big git.” remarked Ginny as we all ran towards the pond.
“Ickle Ronniekins is going to let an ickle girl hex him into oblivion. What a big, bad wiz-ahhh! I do need my head woman!” yelped Fred.
Molly started, “Well then start using it for once and I won’t have to hit you! I’m appalled- I thought I raised all my children to have manners. Between the two of you and Ron-”
“Wait? What did I do?” shouted George.
“You both made Hermione uncomfortable with those lewd comments. She’s an innocent young girl…”
Harry snorted. Loudly. Yes, he had definitely turned into a git. And it was all Ron’s fault! However, this was getting ridiculous. I had his entire family chasing after us and the prat really did have an advantage with those long legs. I stopped running and paused to catch my breath. The Weasley family circus cautiously fluttered behind me. Ron realized the chase was over and done with because he had stopped running as well and just looked at me with wide, fearful eyes. At least that is what I imagined his eyes to look like. Unfortunately, he was too far away to properly make out his expression and regrettably too far away to hex.
“Enough!” I bellowed. “I am going home.” His shoulders relaxed. Oh, he was relieved was he? “And I will be there awaiting your return Ronald. I suggest you do not keep me waiting.” Ah a quiver of fear; that was more like it!
I turned to everyone behind me, “If you would all excuse me.”
“Happy Birthday Hermione!” grinned Harry.
Gits, all men are gits. And with that thought I Apparated back home… to wait.
Peace Out Girl Scout
Pairing: Hermione/Ron
Summary: Hermione thinks Ron is acting out a little fantasy, but is he?
Rating: R
Word Count: 2749
Written for inell’s Art Challenge, and inspired by _odella_’s fanart.
Any comments are appreciated :)
“You trust me, right?” he queried from across the bedroom. I raised my eyebrows at that. Well, I did trust him really, but I must admit I was a bit skeptical about this idea of his.
“Aw, come on ‘Mione” he whined as he walked towards me. “Please?” he whispered as he brushed a soft kiss across my brow.
Oh Merlin, he had invaded my personal space. Gods he smelled amazing. He was giving me his patented lopsided grin. I should be immune to it by now, but no, it had the desired effect he was hoping for: I gave a soft sigh. The lopsided grin of his had now transformed into a full on grin complete with wiggling eyebrows.
Does he really have to gloat like that? His eyes burned through my skin as they traveled up and down my body. They were no longer playful, but cloudy, intense.
‘Damn.’
Bugger, I was at the mentally cursing stage. Usually I can hold out against him better than this, but no, the cursing had started. He’s really rubbed off on me after all these years. Mmm rubbed off… dammit, ‘focus Hermione!’
I could feel the familiar warm flush spreading across my chest and face. “Ron,” I started, “You do realize that you’re incorrigible, right?”
“Nah, I don’t need much encouragement where you’re concerned” he countered as he began to slowly circle me. Stalk more like.
“Really Ron.” I began to lecture with my hands on my hips, the seduction momentarily forgotten. “Incorrigible and encouragement are two different words and that is not what I meant. Incorrigible is used to describe something or someone who cannot be corrected or reformed, especially in the sense of having bad habits.” I stated pointedly. “Whereas encouragement is to give support or help. For instance…” My voice trailed off as I found myself pulled flush against Ron’s broad chest. I heard a moan, or maybe it was a whimper. Semantics. Levi-o-sa, levio-sa. Was that him or me who made the noise though? He laughed softly. Must’ve been me then. Bloody hell. I could feel his body heat through my thin satin nightie.
Not fair, not fair. He nuzzled my neck, that sensitive hollow just below my earlobe. He calls it the…
“Hot for me?” he whispered.
Mmm yes. That’s what he calls it: the ‘hot for me’ spot.
“Maybe.” I responded with a grin of my own.
“Maybe?” He pulled away. “Tsk, tsk,” he chided as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. Now my eyes were riveted to his wet pink lips that know just where to kiss and nibble. I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted and he took advantage of it by clutching my hips with his nimble Qudditch roughened fingers. I’m really starting to see the value of Qudditch now- but all my thoughts fell away as his ginger colored head descended on one satin covered nipple which he laved with his tongue. My knees buckled and his hands gripped my waist more tightly as he crushed his groin against my stomach. I gasped at the contact, the heat, and his hardness. Pure fire and I felt as if I had spontaneously combusted.
Spontaneous combustion… maybe it is actually a myth. Oh! Perhaps it’s just a cover-up on the magical world’s part, to give a scientific explanation that Muggles would believe and understand, when in reality all reported cases were probably a witch or wizard Disapparating. No, of course not. Disapparition doesn’t leave ashes behind. Hmm. I’ll have to read up on this subject. I’m sure the magical world must be linked to this somehow. There must be a book that… Hmm… Mmm… oh yes.
‘God he really is brilliant at this.’ I thought as Ron blew softly against the wet spot he’d left on my nightie. “Oh yes.” He gave me a boyish grin. Oops I must have moaned out loud that time. Good thing I didn’t slip and start mumbling about spontaneous combustion. I don’t think he would appreciate it, even though the whole thought process began because he always makes me feel so hot.
He rolled my moistened nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he looked at the other, attention-deprived, nipple. “Now that won’t do. We wouldn’t want this one to feel left out now would we?” he murmured as he began to make slow, torturous circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue. Oh no we would not want it to be left out. Ohh. No not at all. My back arched and I wove my fingers through his hair, tugging him closer. I could feel his chuckle echo through my breast, my heart, my body; my knickers had gone damp with need… for him.
Ron lifted his head up. ‘No, no, no that really won’t do,’ I thought as I pushed his head back down. As far as I was concerned he could keep making his way down, down, and even more down.
“Minx,” he laughed as he disentangled my hands from his scalp. “Good things come to those who wait,” he quipped as he let go of my hips.
Two can play at that game. I bit my lip and then smiled and pouted, “But I’m wet for you now.”
His eyes glazed over. “Fuck,” he moaned.
“Language Ronald,” I admonished.
Ron shook his head rapidly from side to side, trying to clear it. I just stood there and admired the telltale tenting of his pajama trousers. I wondered what he would think if he knew how I much I actually loved his foul mouth in the bedroom. He’d probably have a fit and pass out, just like if he knew how often I curse in my head. All that cursing makes me feel sexy. Wanton. Very un-Hermione like. My eyes were still glued to his trousers. Gods I wanted to taste him. Get a grip! Yes, grip. Sweet Merlin I need to stop this double entendre nonsense! I tore my eyes away from his arousal; mentally berating myself for acting like a randy 16-year-old wizard.
Ron cleared his throat and I looked up. “Right,” he squeaked. I grinned. I love it when he gets squeaky, even now as a wizard of 21. He coughed rather violently. “Right,” he tried again, this time speaking in his normal deep timbre. “Can I please put it on now? I promise it will be worth it.”
I eyed the silk scarf in his hand with more appreciation than I had before as my randy 16-year-old-wizard side reared its horny head. Oh gods, more visuals. There has got to be a potion for this. I could feel my still damp knickers between my legs and even though I’m guilty of having my mind jump all over the place at the most inappropriate times I found myself only wanting to jump on my boyfriend. Yes, that was the most brilliant thought I’d had all night.
The blood under my skin was humming, craving what it knew was to come as I turned around and whispered huskily, “So put it on me then.”
“Right. Right, I’m on that.” Ron stammered as he stood behind me and lifted the blindfold before my eyes. His hands shook as he tried to knot the scarf behind my head. “Bloody, buggering, arse-backwards thing…” he cursed.
“Ronald…”
“Language, right, sorry.”
“No, not that. Hurry. I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
Ron gulped audibly behind me as he successfully knotted the scarf. I could hear him pad around me to face me as he took both my hands in his. The feeling of his hot callused hands, the smooth cool satin nightie against my breasts (still wet from Ron’s earlier ministrations) was all heightened by the presence of the soft, silky scarf.
“This might be the best birthday I’ve ever had Ron. When do I get to unwrap my present?”
“Naked…Dobby…Hagrid…dancing…Luna…” he muttered.
What the hell? “What the hell?”
“Uh… what?”
“What were you just muttering?”
“Nothing!”
“Ron.”
“No really-“
“Ron!”
“Fine! I was thinking about Dobby and Hagrid dancing naked together in the Room of Requirement as Luna gave commentary. Oh Merlin, I think I may be sick.”
“You’re sick all right!” I was outraged. All this build up and then he gets all… oh gods, does that get him off? Is it some fantasy of his? I always thought he’d think about doing it on a broom. Not, well, that!
I tried to yank my hands from Ron’s grasp, but he held on tightly. “Ronald Bilius Weasley you let go of me this instant!” Suddenly I felt intense pressure coming at me from all sides. No he wouldn’t dare. Apparently he did dare; That bastard had just used Side-Along-Apparition on me! Just as quickly as the pressure began it ended. We had arrived to wherever the hell he had abducted me to. Catching him off guard I wrenched my hands free and immediately brought them to the back of my head to untie the scarf. Before I could loosen the blindfold I heard Ron’s voice shout “incarcerous”. My hands and feet were bound with ropes.
“You had better make sure these ropes are strong enough to hold me for life,” I growled, “otherwise I will incarcerous something very dear to you the minute I get free.”
“Hermione…” he began nervously.
I thought I had kept control of myself rather well as I had only growled my threat moments before, but really. I think I was entitled to give him the verbal slaying of his life.
“Ronald,” I screeched, “you are the world’s biggest prat! Did you think this is what I would want for my birthday? To be kidnapped? You put a blindfold on me for the sole purpose of abducting me! How silly of me to think that you were going to do something, like, oh I don’t know… lick my entire body, or transfigure your wand into a quill and run it along me! No instead you, and warped little fantasy…”
I stopped mid-tirade when I heard a cough. A feminine sounding cough.
“What. Was. That.”
Silence.
“Ronald…”
“Um, well, you see,” he sounded beyond panicked, bordering hysterical, “oh bloody hell. I’m going to let you go and I’ll take off the blindfold, just don’t hex me.”
“Ron…”
“Okay, just give me a 10 second head start before you hex me.”
I rigidly stood there. He must’ve been able to feel my eyes scorching a hole into his head from behind the blindfold because he muttered the counter curse and then removed it.
I blinked, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me after having been in the dark for awhile now, but no, it was no trick. There in front of me was the entire Weasley family. Oddly enough, in their night things.
There was Bill sitting on the kitchen counter with Fleur standing between his legs. He was trying to stop a knowing smile from sliding across his scarred face, but failing miserably at it. Fleur just stood there looking scandalized.
There was Charlie, leaning on the doorjamb between the kitchen and the living room with his arms crossed, shaking with silent laughter. Next to him, in front of the fireplace, were Harry and Ginny. Ginny’s eyebrows were raised. She looked unsure as to whether or not she should laugh at the situation or be outraged on my behalf. Harry, probably inheriting Ron’s ‘git’ gene from overexposure to it after all these years, was openly chuckling.
I could feel my whole body shaking and I knew I was a brighter red than Ron had been after he had fallen asleep on the beach during our holiday to Australia last year.
I saw Percy, sitting at the kitchen table, his mouth pursed as though he were preparing himself for a lecture. Penelope sat beside him, patting his hand and shaking her head ‘no’ at him.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood behind them. Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were open so wide her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. I knew the words ‘scarlet woman’ must be running through her head. Mr. Weasley stood with his arm around her, attempting to give me a reassuring smile. It didn’t work; his parents must think I’m a slag now!
It felt like an hour had passed, when in reality it was probably only about 30 seconds. Looking towards the door that led into the backyard I saw what I had dreaded from the moment I had opened my eyes and realized where I was. The twins. They both had identical Cheshire cat grins on their faces, looking as though Christmas had come early. As expected, they broke the silence.
“Well Hermione-” said Fred.
“It looks like-“ continued George.
“You were already licked!” finished Fred triumphantly.
I glared at them at a loss as their words had me a bit confused. Then I remembered that I had shouted just minutes ago that I had hoped Ron was going to lick me all over while I was blindfolded. I then followed where Fred and George’s eyes were currently staring. My chest. My still damp chest. The chest that had two dark, damp circles in strategic locations. Horrified, I looked back up. Ron. Was. Dead.
Ron. I hadn’t seen him in my scan of the kitchen, which could only mean one thing. The coward was hiding. I turned around and saw him cowering behind me, looking as though someone had just told him Voldemort had come back from the dead. Hrmph. He could only be so lucky.
“Surprise?” he said weakly.
“Ron,” I said in a deadly calm voice.
“’Mione,” he pleaded.
“10 seconds.”
He took a deep breath and quickly rattled off: “It was supposed to be a surprise. And, well, yeah it was definitely that, but I wanted to catch you off guard so that’s why we were having such a late party. A pajama party, like Muggles have. I wasn’t expecting to get carried away earlier with you, but well, you were so bloody you and I lost my head a bit.” He was red in the face and panting now.
“Not 10 seconds to explain,” I coldly stated, “10 seconds to run.”
His eyes widened at that.
“10, 9, 8…”
And he was gone, pushing past the twins to get outside.
I got to 5 before I took off after him
“You only gave him 5 seconds!” Harry shouted after me. It seems everyone had decided to follow behind us. Hardly surprising, that.
“The prat has longer legs,” I yelled back at Harry.
“You’d think he’d have enough sense to Apparate away.” I heard Charlie say.
“Nah, in his state he’d splinch himself.” commented Bill.
“He’d be better off splinching himself then having Hermione catch him. That big git.” remarked Ginny as we all ran towards the pond.
“Ickle Ronniekins is going to let an ickle girl hex him into oblivion. What a big, bad wiz-ahhh! I do need my head woman!” yelped Fred.
Molly started, “Well then start using it for once and I won’t have to hit you! I’m appalled- I thought I raised all my children to have manners. Between the two of you and Ron-”
“Wait? What did I do?” shouted George.
“You both made Hermione uncomfortable with those lewd comments. She’s an innocent young girl…”
Harry snorted. Loudly. Yes, he had definitely turned into a git. And it was all Ron’s fault! However, this was getting ridiculous. I had his entire family chasing after us and the prat really did have an advantage with those long legs. I stopped running and paused to catch my breath. The Weasley family circus cautiously fluttered behind me. Ron realized the chase was over and done with because he had stopped running as well and just looked at me with wide, fearful eyes. At least that is what I imagined his eyes to look like. Unfortunately, he was too far away to properly make out his expression and regrettably too far away to hex.
“Enough!” I bellowed. “I am going home.” His shoulders relaxed. Oh, he was relieved was he? “And I will be there awaiting your return Ronald. I suggest you do not keep me waiting.” Ah a quiver of fear; that was more like it!
I turned to everyone behind me, “If you would all excuse me.”
“Happy Birthday Hermione!” grinned Harry.
Gits, all men are gits. And with that thought I Apparated back home… to wait.
Peace Out Girl Scout