A/N So, as I am no longer a virginal fanfictioner I'm going to embark upon this story. I know there are thousands of "Ron's a good cook," "Ron loves food," "Tee-hee Hermione needs help in the kitchen" stories but I've just can't help myself. I am adding to the deluge because I love food and cooking probably as much as I imagine Ron loving it. And because I'm getting married in about a month, I'm equally obessed with Ron and Hermione's budding adult relationship transitioning into the well-worn comfortability these things settle into after time. All this to say: I know there is a lot of similar stuff out there, but please take the time to peruse!
Bad, this is bad. That was the only cogent thought that formed in Ron's head as he took in his surroundings after apparating home early. He knew he should have flooed before leaving work. Black smoke billowed from the stove as the smoke sensing charm's shrieking filled the room. Red sauce clung to the walls and ceiling in a pattern that reminded Ron of a recent auror case. Hermione was hunched over the cutting board, oblivious to the surrounding cacophony, methodically slicing a carrot into symmetrical half moons. Ron silently cast the smoke sensing charm off. He covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and opened the stove. A gale of smoke stung his eyes. With a flick of the wrist, Ron levitated the incinerated, unrecognizable mystery meat towards the counter.
"BLOODY HELL!" The shout startled Ron and the hovering pan crashed to the floor. Scalding bits of charred meat and vegetables splattered across Ron's bare arms and face.
"FUCK, HERMIONE!" Ron grabbed the nearest bit of cloth, the table linen, and began to blot himself dry. Hermione turned to face the shout, finally realizing she was not alone. She held her left hand to her chest and stared at Ron with wide eyes. "How the hell did you manage to cover yourself with the sauce, too? Oh. OH!" Realization dawned on Ron as he leapt to Hermione's side. He gingerly held her bleeding hand and muttered the healing incantations. Ron couldn't tell if her cheeks were flushed from the heat in the kitchen or embarrassment. As he worked, her head remained bowed, her breathing irregular. When he finished, he lifted Hermione's healed fingers to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss against them. "See, love? All bett…" Ron was cut short by the shrill, banshee like wail of the smoke-sensing charm.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" Hermione yanked Ron's wand out of his hand and flicked to turn the charm off so forcefully that the only remaining pot on the stove soared skyward and landed on the floor with resounding clang. Hermione glared at the overturned pot as if it were Bellatrix Lestrange. Taking a deep, calculated breath, Hermione slapped Ron's wand back into his hand and tore her eyes away from the offending pot. She turned on her heel and stomped out of the kitchen. Ron followed, keeping his distance. He wanted ample space and time to react to whatever she did next.
"I don't understand what went wrong," Hermione said in a quiet voice. Ron could not tell if she was directing this at him or at no one in particular. He figured it was best to assume the latter. "I followed all the directions. Everything was right. Everything was..." Hermione collapsed, defeated onto the sofa. "I just, I mean…" Hermione lifted her head towards Ron and accused, "Why in Merlin's bloody name are you such a good cook and I'm such a lousy one!?"
Ron winced at the barb but said nothing. Hermione had cursed three times in the last five minutes; there was no way she thinking rationally and arguing with a rational Hermione was difficult enough. She dropped her head back on the cushion and closed her eyes. Ron took the cue and headed back into the kitchen and began to clean the mess. After half an hour, Ron had repaired most of the damage. Despite Ron's best attempts at "tergeo," a few stains lingered. Those would have to be cleaned by Hermione when she calmed down. Reminding her of yet another one of her superior skills Ron hoped. He grabbed two wine glasses, and after filling them liberally, crossed the sitting room towards the sofa. Hermione's anger has dissipated but Ron was not pleased by its replacement. Even though her eyes were still closed, he saw a vulnerability etched in her frown that he had not seen since she destroyed the horcrux in the Chamber of Secrets years ago. He knew how hard it was for her to admit that there was something she couldn't do. Letting him see this side of her meant the world to him.
"Love, you're being too hard on yourself." Ron sat down next to her. "You can't be brilliant at everything." At this, Hermione lifted her eyelids and scoffed. Ron showed her the wine glasses in his hands and she reluctantly sat upright before taking the offered beverage.
"Thank you," she muttered. They sat in silence for a few moments. Hermione seemed too preoccupied swirling the wine in her glass to venture into conversation. Ron did not have to wait long, though.
"I know it's stupid, alright. I know you love to cook and don't expect me to be another Molly Weasley. But if I don't cook, I want…I want it to be because I chose not to, not because I am incapable of making a meal that does not end it flames and bloodshed." Hermione stared at the ruby liquid sloshing around in her glass as she continued. "Mum said it was simple, easy, foolproof even. She said there was no way I could botch that roast recipe." Ron tried to remember the charred blob he pulled out of the oven and imagine how that was supposed to be roast, but pushed the thought out of his head. "I guess she was wrong. I'm obviously the exception to foolproof recipes." Hermione turned to Ron and pleaded, "What am I doing wrong?"
"Nothing!" Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Okay, maybe something. Cooking isn't just about following directions, Hermione. You have to be open to change and evaluate what you're making as you're making it. You have to be flexible. You have to know what is essential and what is secondary to the recipe. You can't be afraid to trust your instincts and ignore what's written down for you."
"Easier said than done." Hermione said, still watching her wine. "Ron, that all sounds great but I have no idea what that means. How can I trust non-existent cooking instincts? I have no cooking instincts!"
"I'll teach you," Ron stated with much more confidence than he felt. "Think of all the times you've helped me. Merlin, Hermione, I'd still be trying to get past my third year at Hogwarts if I didn't have you to help me."
"Ronald, you were always perfectly capable of doing your schoolwork. It was never a matter of intelligence, you just needed some encouragement."
"Exactly, and this is no different. You just need some encouragement." Hermione frowned. "Oh come on, how horrible could it be having me as a teacher."
"Need I remind you of the last four times you tried to teach me how to ride a broom." Ron paled but recovered in what he thought was a suave manner.
"This is going to be in a kitchen, not twenty yards in the air. It will be different. I promise." Hermione searched Ron's face.
"Okay," she conceded, setting her glass on the small table next to the sofa. Hermione turned and jabbed her finger roughly into Ron's chest. "But I swear, Ronald Billius Weasley, you tell a soul and I will hex you." Ron smirked but knew that was a mistake when Hermione poked him even harder. "That means not Harry, not Ginny, and please, for Merlin's sake, please not George." Ron raised his hands in defeat.
"I heard you, love. No one." Hermione sighed in relief. She picked up her discarded wine glass and drained the remaining liquid in one gulp. When her head returned to its upright position she had an entirely different look in her eyes. It was Ron's favorite type of look. Hermione plucked the wine glass from Ron's hand and set it next to her empty one. In one fluid motion, she pushed Ron's back against the sofa and straddled him. She placed her mouth next to Ron's ear. Her hair cascaded over his face and he breathed in the wonderful smell of her shampoo.
"I guess the only think left to discuss is what we're going to have for supper tonight," Hermione whispered. "I know what I would like for dessert." Hermione started to unbutton his shirt. "Ron, may I have my dessert before supper?" Ron's stomach growled loudly and they both collapsed into laughter. Ron kissed the top of Hermione's head.
"For supper, love, I say we order take-away. But I promise, I'll save room for dessert."
A/N (take 2) Okay first, I know that dessert is usually called pudding in the UK but Hermione using pudding as a euphemism for sexy time sounded unbelievable raunchy. Secondly, please check back for more chapters/updates. And thirdly, please review and tell me what you think!