Hey everyone! This is my first Fanfic, so I will be working out some kinks as I continue writing.
But your reviews would be very helpful!
Anyway, I based this fanfiction off Damien Rice's song "The Animals Were Gone".
Disclaimer: 1. And, I do not own the Harry Potter Universe, just this plot. (If I did own it, I would be filthy rich at this point, so damn damn damn)
2. Some chapters will be rated M (like this one!) So if you don't want to read it, then don't. Just giving you a heads up!
Chapter 1- "Three Words they did Not Need"
Hermione took the long knife in her hand and began to chop. The metal blade hit the carrot and then the wood board with loud thuds as she sliced the carrot. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes looked swollen. Once again, she would be home alone tonight. Hermione took in a deep breath and let out another sob, thrusting the knife at the vegetable with even more vigor than before. Her mind mechanically brought up the back of her hand to wipe the snot and tear covered face. At last, she gave into the sobs and set the knife down, grabbing the counter top with both hands to settle herself. What happened to her composure? One bad day at work should NOT do this to the female member of the Golden Trio.
Okay, so maybe the day wasn't too terrible. It was typical, her boss, Schrumer, had once again taken credit for her latest addition to the Auror Protection Program. He did this frequently, but today he had 'suggested' that she come see him in his office for some 'private' conversation. She rolled her eyes. But maybe her tears were from her husband's successive absence for the last three nights. She wanted to talk to him, not about Schrumer's offer for a 'chat' (Ron's jealousy was legendary, and Schrumer might wind up dead somewhere), she just missed his company. Hermione sighed softly, letting go of the counter and walking over the sink, letting the water warm run as she rested her fingers under the tap. When it had finally heated, Hermione gathered the liquid into her hands and splashed it over her face, scrubbing the tears off it. It wasn't a fight that had kept the two apart, rather, Ron had been on-call for Auror duty, and had been called in all three nights.
Her husband was an Auror, which was a dangerous, time-consuming job. She had come to terms with that even before she married him. Glancing down at the ring, Hermione admired the small stone. It would be almost four years in July when Ron finally slipped the ring onto her finger. The event was quite a Weasley Wedding, held in the back yard of the burrow as Fleur and Bill's wedding before them. She wouldn't think about that now though, she had a stew to make.
Hermione knew how to cook with magic, and she had become quite good at it. But cooking with her own two hands always meant more to her, and it gave her the time to think. Just like a complex potion, her homemade food put Hermione in 'the zone'.
She didn't bother turning around as she heard the front door unlock and slam itself shut. Hermione heard the shuffle of feet in the hallway and then the small thud of her husband resting himself against the door frame. Two brown eyes took in her shape and she grinned softly. She knew what he would look like at the moment without even having to turn around. He would be wearing the outfit she laid out for him this morning, black trousers, a white oxford shirt, and a silk black tie. The tie would be slightly undone around the neck, and his red hair would be messy, as he ran his hand through it or held onto it as he tried to think something through. He would have already taken off his robes, she mused, and he would have thrown them on the couch instead of hanging them on the hook properly. She would have to pick that up before she went to bed, he would be needing it looking fresh again tomorrow.
"How was work?" Hermione asked softly, even though she already knew the answer. He wouldn't want to talk about work, he wouldn't want to talk about anything. She grinned to herself, counting down the seconds until he would ask, maybe even beg. The bad day at work melted off of her, she could think about her project later.
He had walked up behind her, placing his hands against the counter on either side of her, placing his nose lightly against her neck. Ron leaned his front into her back, taking his wife in. He softly brushed her hair to one side of her neck and letting his lips trace from her ears to the nape of her neck. Hermione sighed softly, letting her back rest somewhat in his. She set the chopping knife down as one of Ron's hands shifted to run up her thigh. With a quick movement, Hermione turned and was facing Ron, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing a line down his jawbone.
Ron quickly guided her lips to his, sucking on her bottom lip and drawing it out a bit. Her husband had three distinct kisses. There was one in front of their family and friends, which was almost too provocative for her taste. It wasn't quick and simple, his kisses could never be like that. He would hold onto those kisses for a while, letting them linger on her lips. This kiss was mostly for showing off, as he would always grin and cock an eyebrow at the taunting Fred and George whenever they were around. She loved him for many reasons, but one was how much pride he put into her, how much he always wanted to show her off, tell everyone how great she was.
The next kiss was just before they fell asleep each night together. Hermione knew he couldn't sleep without her, and she couldn't sleep without that kiss. It was the kiss that made her forget the rest of the day, and as he would pull her into his arms each night, she knew the world outside their four walls meant nothing, as he wrapped her in his tranquility.
The last kiss was the one he was giving her right now, and Hermione moaned into his mouth. It was always leading up to sex or during it, and it was used both as a seduction tactic and an affirmation. The affirmation of their eternal bond together, that she would be the only one to ever receive this kiss. Ron would make Hermione forget how to stand when he placed his lips to hers this way, and he knew that.
His ministrations moved to her collarbone and then the hollow dip in her neck that he would lightly trace his tongue over. Hermione gasped this time, and looked down to find her husband staring up at her, his eyes full of lust. Her nipples stood out hard against the white tank top, and she subconsciously ground her hips into his. Ron checked down at his progress of seduction, and licked his lips in delight. He took the low cut tank top in his teeth and pulled it down, letting the soft ridges of his pearly whites run across her chest, as he pulled the pert nipple into his mouth. Hermione had lost the ability to think as her husband swirled his tongue around one of her most sensitive areas, but she found her hand unbuttoning his black trousers.
It was his turn to moan as she quickly grabbed his shaft, stroking it languidly. Ron quickly remembered what he had started, and he ripped off Hermione's tanktop, spilting it down the middle. His lips quickly trailed down her stomach, as he fell onto his knees, pulling her skirt down with him. His eyes lit up when he found the pink lacy bits of knickers he had bought her for their last Valentine's day. A low guttral sound escaped him as he saw how moist the panties had already become. He placed his hands on her hips and grinned up at his wife, taking the knickers off her with his teeth.
Hermione couldn't take it much longer, as she ground her hips towards his face. She was in no placed to be teased, she needed to be shagged, quick and hard, and he knew that.
Ron placed a kiss on her sweet center, then slipped a tongue instead of her. He quickly found his rhythm, which was confirmed by her groans and thursts. Ron was going to make her work for it, bringing her close to climax. He thrust a few fingers in quickly, and she cried out his name, making him shudder. His member ached, but he continued on, wanting to finish her off once before he took her again.
"Ron, please!" she screamed, not able to take it anymore. If he wasn't inside her soon, she was going to finish herself off her own way. She was soon lifted into his arms, kissed roughly by his wet mouth and then laid on their kitchen table. They had made love on almost every surface of their house, but this was a new table, and she guessed he felt like christening it.
He made haste, shoving his remaining boxers off himself and throwing the undershirt over his head. She waited for him, patiently. Well, not so patiently, as she had slipped her finger inside and began to pleasure herself. This wasn't so much for her own benefit, as it would be for her husbands. Ron sat back and watched her for a few seconds, thanking the gods that she had married him. He couldn't hold on to his head any longer, the need to slam into her overcame him and he quickly removed her hands, climbing onto the table and shoving himself into her.
Hermione took a sharp intake of breath as the pleasure hit her, counteracting her husband's thrusts with her own. Her hand reached out and took firm hold of his arse, pushing him into her more. He got the message and thrust harder, their grunts, moans, and heavy breathing getting louder by the second.
Ron tried not to go too quickly this time, he wanted her to come right along with him. But he couldn't help himself, thankfully, Hermione was ready too. He placed his hands on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he slammed into her, emptying himself into her as she screamed out his name, both riding on a mutual orgasm.
He collapsed onto her chest, breathing heavy into her neck as he tried to regain his mind and body. It took a while for their breathing to slow down, as sweat dripped and slid down both of their bodies. Ron lifted himself up a bit, gazing down at his wife, who took on the wonderful after sex glow.
She lifted herself up on her elbows and kissed him gently, whispering a breathless "I love you" into his ear before letting herself lie back down on the table. They laid like that, him still inside of her, up on his hand, watching each other for a few minutes. There had been no need for her to tell him she loved him, he knew it. The verbal confirmation helped his ego on some occasions, but her love was a constant thing. It hung around them like air, always present, never changing.
Ron finally pulled himself out of her, finding that he had the strength to stand up off the table, but he steadied himself by holding on to a chair. His glazed over eyes took in his wife, her hair, once tame this morning, was messy and had fresh traces of sweat. While her toned legs were bent a little as they rested up on the table, he watched her chest rise and fall more slowly now as her breathing returned to somewhat normal. Ron could remember her Hogwarts days, when she was still somewhat scrawny and her busy hair could never be contained. She was beautiful then, he thought, but she was astonishing now. The curves of her body, the once tameness of her hair, everything came together, as if she was painted, she was surreal to Ron.
Hermione slowly sat up, taking her husband's hands as she now sat on the edge of the table and pulling him closer to her. She placed soft kisses on his chest, letting her nose breath in his musty scent.
He looked down at her with soft sadness in his eyes. She didn't know yet, and he didn't want to tell her. His day had been full of meetings and strange events that would change their perfect married life. These nights where he could come home and make love to his wife could be gone for quite a long time, and he didn't have the heart to tell her.
Ron took another look and sighed. 'Not tonight,' he thought, and he soon gathered her in his arms. "I'm taking you to bed my love," he whispered softly in her ear. He had felt the need to be quiet, that if he spoke loudly it would ruin the love they just made. She nodded her approval and he carried her softly up the stairs, muttering a spell that turned off the downstairs lights.
He would break it to her tomorrow, tomorrow would be the day she would know that their lives would be changed for quite some time.
