Unintentional Seduction (R)
Title: Unintentional Seduction
Prompt: Clotted Cream
Rating: R
Word Count: 819
Summary: Ron doesn't mean to turn Hermione on ... honestly, it's completely unintentional. Prequel to " Intentional Seduction."
A/N: Happy belated birthday to willow_wand ! Hope you enjoy Ron and the clotted cream as much as Hermione did!
It's a Granger family tradition. Every year we have afternoon tea at the Ritz to celebrate Mum's birthday. Conveniently, her birthday falls right after term ends for the summer and I'm always here to celebrate with them. Well, except for last year; last year Mum and Dad were still in Australia, packing up their temporary home and trying to process all that had happened the preceding twelve months.
So here we are again, same as every year. Back at the Palm Court, eating our Egg Mayonnaise and Cress Sandwiches, drinking our Earl Grey, Mum and Dad each sipping a glass of champagne.
Yes, same as always ... except there is one important difference this year. A tall, blue eyed, Ginger-haired difference.
Ron looks quite dashing in the Muggle jacket and tie the dress code here at the Ritz requires. I worried when Mum and Dad insisted that Ron come along, fearing he'd feel uncomfortable in such posh surroundings. Other than a small coughing fit during our champagne toast, he's held up remarkably well. Though he did scoff at the size of the finger sandwiches, a promise to feed him something more substantial later appeased him well enough.
The look on his face at the assortment pastries was worth all the grumbling about food that "wouldn't fill a gnome." Right now he's devouring a scone slathered in clotted cream and strawberry preserves; all I can think about is devouring him.
"You're right Mrs. Granger, these are the best scones I've ever had," he tells my mum between bites.
"Mmmmm," he adds, preparing another one.
Does he have to moan like that?
"Soooo good."
Apparently he does. The clotted cream is melting on the warm scone and dripping down his chin. I can't help but be reminded of the way he looked and sounded when he had me writhing on his bed last night, with his head buried between my thighs. I've only been home from Hogwarts for a little over two weeks and Ron and I have been very busy making up for lost time. In fact, another make-up session needs to be held as soon as possible.
He darts his talented tongue out to capture a wayward spot of preserves and I try to control my breathing.
Ron quirks an eyebrow at me while he takes another bite. He can't be doing this on purpose ... can he? No. Ron's idea of a sexy look is a not-so-subtle waggle of his eyebrows, not using scones and clotted cream as a seduction technique.
His eyes dart down to my chest and he gives me his signature 'waggle.' I glance down and notice that my nipples are straining against my blouse, making my arousal quite obvious to him. Dammit, I'm heading straight to Marks & Spencer tomorrow and buying some padded bras!
"Hermione ... Hermione?" I suddenly realise my father is calling me.
"Oh, sorry, Dad." I hope I'm not blushing.
"I was asking if you wanted another glass of champagne."
"N-no, thank you. I need to keep a clear head, I have a report I simply must work on this evening, my first departmental presentation is this week. In fact," I sneak a glance at Ron and pray he gets the hint, "I really should be going..."
"Oh." Dad sounds disappointed, he starts to raise his hand. "I'll just get the cheque, I suppose."
"No!" I grab his arm and pull it down. He and Mum look confused; Ron looks amused, the smug prat. "No reason you and Mum shouldn't stay and have another glass and relax."
"Well, I was thinking perhaps Ron might enjoy watching the match on the telly with me while you work, if he's free of course." Dad and Ron have become quite friendly over the past year. Usually I'm very glad of that, but today it's a definite hindrance.
"Free all day, sir," Ron pipes up with a smile.
"No you're not." Damn him, he's enjoying watching me squirm way too much.
"I'm not?" My parents might be buying that look of feigned innocence, but I'll be sure to punish him for his cheek.
Humph. He'd probably like that.
"You agreed to help me with my presentation, Ron. I thought an Auror's perspective would be persuasive. You said you'd share your case notes on, um ... Centaurs, with me."
"You're right, I did. Mind working at my flat, that's where everything is? We could use Harry's notes too, if you'd like."
"Your flat would be perfect." Your bedroom to be precise. Or maybe the kitchen if Harry's not home ... or the shower ...
"I guess we'd best get to it then." Ron stands to shake Dad's hand and as I'm hugging Mum good-bye, she whispers in my ear, "Don't you want to take some scones, dear? Ron certainly seemed to enjoy them."
Hmmmm, I wonder if the boys have any clotted cream at their flat?
Prompt: Clotted Cream
Rating: R
Word Count: 819
Summary: Ron doesn't mean to turn Hermione on ... honestly, it's completely unintentional. Prequel to " Intentional Seduction."
A/N: Happy belated birthday to willow_wand ! Hope you enjoy Ron and the clotted cream as much as Hermione did!
It's a Granger family tradition. Every year we have afternoon tea at the Ritz to celebrate Mum's birthday. Conveniently, her birthday falls right after term ends for the summer and I'm always here to celebrate with them. Well, except for last year; last year Mum and Dad were still in Australia, packing up their temporary home and trying to process all that had happened the preceding twelve months.
So here we are again, same as every year. Back at the Palm Court, eating our Egg Mayonnaise and Cress Sandwiches, drinking our Earl Grey, Mum and Dad each sipping a glass of champagne.
Yes, same as always ... except there is one important difference this year. A tall, blue eyed, Ginger-haired difference.
Ron looks quite dashing in the Muggle jacket and tie the dress code here at the Ritz requires. I worried when Mum and Dad insisted that Ron come along, fearing he'd feel uncomfortable in such posh surroundings. Other than a small coughing fit during our champagne toast, he's held up remarkably well. Though he did scoff at the size of the finger sandwiches, a promise to feed him something more substantial later appeased him well enough.
The look on his face at the assortment pastries was worth all the grumbling about food that "wouldn't fill a gnome." Right now he's devouring a scone slathered in clotted cream and strawberry preserves; all I can think about is devouring him.
"You're right Mrs. Granger, these are the best scones I've ever had," he tells my mum between bites.
"Mmmmm," he adds, preparing another one.
Does he have to moan like that?
"Soooo good."
Apparently he does. The clotted cream is melting on the warm scone and dripping down his chin. I can't help but be reminded of the way he looked and sounded when he had me writhing on his bed last night, with his head buried between my thighs. I've only been home from Hogwarts for a little over two weeks and Ron and I have been very busy making up for lost time. In fact, another make-up session needs to be held as soon as possible.
He darts his talented tongue out to capture a wayward spot of preserves and I try to control my breathing.
Ron quirks an eyebrow at me while he takes another bite. He can't be doing this on purpose ... can he? No. Ron's idea of a sexy look is a not-so-subtle waggle of his eyebrows, not using scones and clotted cream as a seduction technique.
His eyes dart down to my chest and he gives me his signature 'waggle.' I glance down and notice that my nipples are straining against my blouse, making my arousal quite obvious to him. Dammit, I'm heading straight to Marks & Spencer tomorrow and buying some padded bras!
"Hermione ... Hermione?" I suddenly realise my father is calling me.
"Oh, sorry, Dad." I hope I'm not blushing.
"I was asking if you wanted another glass of champagne."
"N-no, thank you. I need to keep a clear head, I have a report I simply must work on this evening, my first departmental presentation is this week. In fact," I sneak a glance at Ron and pray he gets the hint, "I really should be going..."
"Oh." Dad sounds disappointed, he starts to raise his hand. "I'll just get the cheque, I suppose."
"No!" I grab his arm and pull it down. He and Mum look confused; Ron looks amused, the smug prat. "No reason you and Mum shouldn't stay and have another glass and relax."
"Well, I was thinking perhaps Ron might enjoy watching the match on the telly with me while you work, if he's free of course." Dad and Ron have become quite friendly over the past year. Usually I'm very glad of that, but today it's a definite hindrance.
"Free all day, sir," Ron pipes up with a smile.
"No you're not." Damn him, he's enjoying watching me squirm way too much.
"I'm not?" My parents might be buying that look of feigned innocence, but I'll be sure to punish him for his cheek.
Humph. He'd probably like that.
"You agreed to help me with my presentation, Ron. I thought an Auror's perspective would be persuasive. You said you'd share your case notes on, um ... Centaurs, with me."
"You're right, I did. Mind working at my flat, that's where everything is? We could use Harry's notes too, if you'd like."
"Your flat would be perfect." Your bedroom to be precise. Or maybe the kitchen if Harry's not home ... or the shower ...
"I guess we'd best get to it then." Ron stands to shake Dad's hand and as I'm hugging Mum good-bye, she whispers in my ear, "Don't you want to take some scones, dear? Ron certainly seemed to enjoy them."
Hmmmm, I wonder if the boys have any clotted cream at their flat?