Little Lies by Luvscharlie
Ron and Hermione stood in the kitchen of the Burrow with their trunk between them on the floor.
"Thanks for agreeing to watch the kids for us, Mum," Ron said. "Hermione's had a few rough months at the Ministry, you know, and she really needs this holiday to unwind."
Hermione gave a little gasp and shot him a glare. He'd not be blaming this on her. "I am in the room, Ronald. I do believe I have the capacity to speak for myself, thank you very much. The truth of the matter is that the Auror Department has Ron overworked and he's stressed and snippy." Take that, Weasley.
Molly interceded before their "discussion" became a full-fledged row. "It is my pleasure. You know, I love having the children over every chance I get," she said, as Hugo came barreling around the corner at breakneck speed. Most people would have been unable to avoid a collision with the toddler. Molly Weasley was not most people. She sidestepped the child, never breaking stride, her years of practice and instinct taking over. "Now tell me, where are the two of you off to on your holiday?"
Ron shuffled from one foot to the other. Hermione gave him a nudge. Could he look more guilty? Ron said 'Wales' just as Hermione said 'Scotland,' and both dropped their heads and looked guiltily at the floor.
Hermione braved a look. She recognised the twinkle of knowledge in her mother-in-law's eye, and she could feel her cheeks redden with embarrassment.
Ron made a valiant attempt at salvaging their dignity… what there was left of it. "I mean—"
Molly broke in. "No need to explain, dear. I do remember when you're father and I were—"
"Mum!" Ron covered his ears.
Molly's warm laughter filled the kitchen. Ron picked up the trunk and the two of them Apparated quickly away.
When they reappeared back in their flat, they both looked at one another and broke into fits of giggles.
"We must be the worst liars in the world," Hermione said.
"That we are," Ron agreed, tossing aside the empty trunk they had intended as a prop to aide their ruse.
"Oh, a weekend alone!" Hermione exclaimed.
"However shall we amuse ourselves?" Ron asked, advancing on her and cocking his eyebrow quizzically.
Hermione's eyes met the lust-filled ones of her husband. "I'll put up the wards, you block the fireplace," she said without hesitation.
"On it," Ron replied, with a mock salute.
Their tasks complete, they met back up in the living room. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nibbled his chin playfully. "Now that we won't be interrupted, what shall I do with you, my husband?"
"Anything you please," Ron said. "Any little thing your heart desires."
"Really?"
"Um-hm," he said, pulling her jumper over her head and kissing her neck.
Hermione flicked her wand and bound his hands.
"Hermione! What are you—"
"You said anything," she retorted, unfastening his trousers and reaching inside.
"Indeed, I did." Ron's words were more a sigh than a statement.
"You won't forget this weekend, Ron," she said, sliding his trousers and pants down over his hips.
"Dear Merlin!" Ron gasped, as she pushed him down onto the sofa.
Many memories were made that weekend; many memories, indeed.
~Fin.~
A/N: Advent Drabble 8/31 with the prompt of Rendezvous