Auhor's Notes: This fic was inspired by the story "The Best Medicine" by TheAmericanWeasley. Call me rotten, but when I read that fic, I found that I just had to elaborate on the idea, so below is what my filthy mind came up with. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

Better than Water

Hermione let out a sigh as she arranged her papers into a neat pile and locked them away in the top drawer of her desk, glad to be finally allowed to leave her office in the Ministry of Magic. She had not been able to focus all day. In fact, during those past couple of days, she had been feeling as though the weight of the entire world was resting on her shoulders.

In his last Auror mission three weeks ago, Ron had been hit by a curse that had immobilized his legs. It had not been the old familiar Leg-Lock Curse, though, but something much more sinister. It had taken him one solid week in St. Mungo's, packed with a battery of examinations, exercise and a whole bunch of nasty potions for him to swallow until he had finally regained his ability to walk. Now he had been discharged from the hospital but he was still in no condition to work as his movements were still somewhat sluggish and feelings of pain or numbness would occasionally shoot through his legs. Having to pay regular visits to the hospital for check-ups, he was now continuing his treatment at home, spending a large amount of his time on the couch or in bed. The fact that he had not fully recovered yet worried Hermione to no end, but she felt that a little bit of her strain was gone now that she knew that he was at home and that he was safe.

Pulling down her skirt that had ridden up while she was sitting at her desk, she stood up, left her office and made her way into the Atrium where she queued in front of one of the fireplaces to take her home. As she stood there, waiting for her turn, she tried to pry her mind off of Ron's Auror work. It was only his third year in his function. She shuddered to think what other things might happen to him in the many years of his career that were still to come.

After a stomach-lurching travel through the Floo, she finally found herself in the fireplace of the living room of the apartment that she shared with Ron. She immediately screwed up her eyes as she was hit by the blinding light of the summer sun that was falling in through the large window on the far side of the room. As the Ministry was located under the ground, she had not been aware of how hot a day this was. When her eyes became accustomed to the brightness, she looked around, searching for Ron. He was nowhere in sight. Dusting herself off before she stepped out, Hermione decided to check for him in the bedroom.

She found him there, clad in nothing but his boxers, sprawled out on top of the sheets on their bed, fast asleep. Hermione smiled down at him. He was looking so cute and peaceful that she dearly wanted to let him sleep, but a quick look at her watch told her that she needed to wake him up.

"Ron," she hissed, gently shaking him by the shoulder. "Ron, wake up, love!"

Ron groggily blinked his eyes open, looked around with an air of disorientation and then his gaze locked on Hermione who was standing next to him.

"My-nee," he slurred, peering up at her, and it make Hermione smile down at him with adoration. "Whatcha doin' 'ere?" He squinted his eyes and, in a much clearer voice, he added, "How was work?"

"The usual," Hermione said with a shrug. "Honey, you need to take your potion," she then urged. "It's twenty minutes overdue."

Ron's eyes widened as he saw the confirmation on his own watch. "Oh, crap," he moaned, scrambled into a sitting position and then reached over to his bedstand for a vial that contained an unpleasant-looking, thick, dark grey potion. He unstoppered the vial and Hermione had to walk a step backwards as a strong stench of rotten eggs instantly hit her nostrils. With a mixture of admiration and disgust, she watched Ron swallow the potion and then wash it down with the glass of water that stood beside the vial, drinking it in one go.

"Urgh, nasty," Ron said with a shudder as he replaced the vial and the glass and then flopped back onto the mattress, breathing heavily.

Hermione watched his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. She had never been one for the muscular type, but she found that Ron most definitely constituted an exception. Auror training had steeled him. His formerly modest muscles were now sculpted and strong. He now had a fully-developed six pack and his already broad chest was now defined and muscled as were his shoulders and arms. It did not make him look rugged, though. It rather make him look - and Hermione giggled inwardly for applying such a girly term on him but it seemed so fitting - absolutely gorgeous.

Her gaze fell onto the tattoo on his chest that she had given him five years ago - "H+R", framed by the shape of a heart. She had not really liked that Ron had refused to let her remove it after she had graduated from Hogwarts (after all, it had only been meant to be there during the one year that they had been apart), but by now, she had realized that she did not want to take it off of him, either. She loved the fact that her mark was adorning such a handsome body, and even more so, she loved how Ron was willingly and proudly carrying a sign of her love everywhere he went - he was proud of being loved by her.

The sight of his tattoo turned her on every time she saw it and, sure enough, she felt an aching sensation build up between her legs, adding to the tension that she had been feeling for the past weeks. It became unbearable. She needed to get her release, now.

"I know something that does away with the taste better than water," she said, smiling seductively down at him. A plan was forming in her mind...

"Yeah? Then bring it on, please," Ron groaned, having obviously missed the tone in her voice, and turned to look at her.

Her eyes locked with his and never left as she reached under her skirts and pulled down her knickers. She grinned at him with triumph as she saw his eyes widen at this sight and his ears turned a fiery shade of red. She stepped out of her knickers and climbed onto the bed, still intensely looking down at him as she lifted one leg to his other side and lowered herself onto him.

Ron flinched and hissed as her curls made contact with his skin and she smiled at his reaction, enjoying the power she knew she now held over him. She settled down on him completely, holding him by the shoulders for support, and she moaned as she felt his hard abs underneath her cunt.

And then, slowly, deliciously, she moved up on his torso, pressing down hard at him to feel his muscles as she slid up his toned abs and chiseled chest, eliciting a loud drawn-out moan from him. She felt her fluids spill out and she knew that she was leaving a wet trail on his skin. The idea only aroused her more.

Having reached his collarbone, she grabbed for the iron-wrought bedframe that had been useful for so many other things. Grinning wickedly, she looked down at him and he looked up, arousal and nervousness both evident in his face. Her grin became broader as she lifted her hips off his trembling body and moved forwards. Ron moaned as her cunt sunk onto his face. Invisible to her because her skirt was draping around him, he lifted his head to meet her halfway and he showered her with kisses while she moved lower, pressing his head back into the pillow. Ron's tongue darted out to lick her sopping opening, and then slipped inside.

Hermione sucked in a breath and rolled her eyes behind closed lids, loving the feeling of his warm, wet, soft tongue as he expertly explored her. And then, she humped, careful at first, but faster and harder as she heard Ron moan and felt him slide even deeper into her. He felt so good. She looked down at him, smiling as she saw that his whole head was covered by her skirt, and she wondered what his face must be looking like - flushed and soaked by her juices that were trickling down his cheeks. The image in her head sent her into overdrive and she pounded on him, harder and harder, making the rusty bedsprings creak every time she pushed into him.

For a split second, the thought crossed her mind of what her former classmates from her Muggle school must be thinking if they could see her like that. She, funny-haired, bucktoothed, weird Hermione Granger, bookworm and teacher's pet extraordinaire, sitting atop a sweet and handsome boy and practically fucking his face. She let out an exhilarated laugh and continued to pound on him, now feeling even more empowered and turned on than before.

Then, feeling dizzy and lightheaded and decidedly out of breath, she changed her motions. She gyrated her hips above him in a wide circle, letting her cunt slide over his chin, his cheek, his forehead, his other cheek and back to his chin. And then she started to grind him. Ron's tongue found her clit and started to play with it, enveloping it, swirling around it, nudging it. Hermione moaned loudly as she rubbed her cunt, slowly, hard, against his face. It felt so incredibly good. This was the release she had been needing. Three weeks worth of pent-up tension were now so close to be let out. She was on the brink of cumming. But she did not want it to be this way...

Reaching underneath her skirt, she slid her right hand underneath the back of Ron's head and pressed him even closer to her. Then, still firmly holding onto him and ensuring that he never broke contact with her, she awkwardly flipped them both around so that she was sitting on the pillow, her back leaning against the bedframe. Ron rolled along with her and positioned himself between her legs. She immediately slung her legs around his shoulders, crossing her ankles over the small of his back. She pulled down her skirt above him as far as she could before she placed one hand on the back of his head and the other one on his neck, both above the fabric of her skirt. She wanted to fully envelop him, wanted him to smell her.

But even that did not seem close enough for Ron. He was leaning on his forearms, his palms on her hips, and he tried to push his fingers underneath her bum as though he wanted her to sit on his hands. Her heart swelled with love for him and she bucked up her hips, humping him from below, and she moaned as Ron gently sucked at her clit and his tongue tended to her, moving in and out, swirling, licking, caressing, while his hands massaged her sides. He seemed to be everywhere and she loved every second of it.

And then, she found her release. An obscene quantity of her juices gushed out of her and Ron groaned as her legs cramped above him and she pressed his face firmly against her while she moaned and screamed out his name along with a whole set of choice words. Her breathing was labored when she heavily leant against the bedframe and succumbed to the pleasant waves of her orgasm that rippled through her body. After a while, she loosened her hold on Ron and she felt him shift his head so that his cheek was resting on her cunt and he laid feathery kisses on her wherever he could reach. In response, Hermione bucked her hips and started to slowly hump his cheek. She found that there were still fluids flowing out of her and she grinned as she came up with another idea...

She brought her hands under her skirt, curled her fingers into his soft hair and gently pulled. Understanding her signal correctly, he lifted his head and, one hand on each of his temples, she moved his entire face across her vagina, simultaneously lifting her hips and rubbing her cunt all over his face as well. Ron moaned; he seemed to like it, and it spurred her on. She wanted to bathe him in her juices...

Several minutes later, she lifted her skirt off of him. She smirked as she saw his red hair between her legs, a sight that always aroused her. She humped him one last time and then pushed against his shoulders, willing him to sit up, and she watched him, licking her lips, when he obediently fulfilled her wish.

His front was glistening with a sticky trail of her juices. His face looked exactly like she had imagined, flushed an adorable shade of crimson and completely covered in her juices, practically drenched. He looked thoroughly cute. His hair was a mess from where her hands had been and she saw that a good amount of her fluids had made it into his hair, especially into his fringe which was plastered to his forehead with wetness. He was strongly smelling of her. She gasped as she saw a trickle of her juices slowly but steadily make its way down the side of his neck.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him ever so softly on the lips. She smiled as she tasted herself on him.

"That was better, wasn't it?" she asked innocently.

Grinning back at her, Ron brushed two fingers across his sticky cheek, then brought them to his mouth and licked them clean.

"Much better," he said.

From then on, Hermione was glad that Ron's potions were so numerous and vile.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have written smut! Writing this felt odd, but also sort of nice, haha. I hope you liked it.