AN: Happy Smutty Saturday™. We are now back to our original posting schedule. I don't think you'll be too mad, because this chapter makes Thursday's short addition worth it.

My betas Adenei, be11a and cheesy are bloody brilliant. Seriously, it's worth getting betas just to get a running commentary on your chapters! I love the notes they leave me.

As always, if you enjoy this chapter please let me know and if you don't also let me know, but please remember to be kind and be constructive. Hope you have a lovely weekend, and that Zombie Jesus brings you loads of chocolate xxx

While Hermione is on her girl date with Ginny, the boys hit The Greenhouse. But their night is interrupted by a text message. How will Ron respond?

If you're having girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one
99 problems
But a bitch ain't one

- 99 Problems, Hugo (2010)

Ron

"You shouldn't have just gotten her a balloon, actually. Who do you think you are, the old guy from Up?"

"What the fuck is Up?!" Sometimes Harry said the most mind-boggling stuff, and I swear he did it just to confuse the fuck out of me.

We were weaving our way through a busy Diagon Alley after finishing work ridiculously late, as per usual. Instead of doing the grown-up thing and going home to eat a healthy meal then getting an early night, we'd decided to go for a few drinks at The Greenhouse instead.

I hadn't been planning on telling Harry about the balloon incident, but it didn't take long for him to get the information out of me when I returned to the office after my lunch break. It probably had something to do with the massive grin on my face. Plus, I knew he would have worked out something was going on when I wasn't able to give him any information about the Springfield case.

And ever since, he had been taking the piss out of me.

"It's a Disney film. It's my favourite. You really need to start watching them. Then you will understand my jokes! I'll put it on our Disneyplus watch list! "

"I have more important things to be doing than watching children's films, Harry!" We entered the bar. It was busy for midweek, and patrons filled all of the stools in front of Neville. We decided to settle at a table for a change. Before Harry went to buy the first round, I grabbed his arm.

"Listen, nobody knows about Hermione and me, okay? So please don't say anything!"

"Alright, alright! What do you want? Beer or a cocktail?"

I considered it briefly. "Beer. I reckon Hermione might get in touch soon. How could she not after my awesome present? I'll need a straight head to deal with her."

"Okay, but I don't think she'll call!"

Don't you just love it when your friends have complete confidence in you and your ability to pull? Honestly, it's not like he was a lothario himself. You'd think he'd be excited that at least one of us was getting some action.

I watched Harry as he made his way to the bar but was soon distracted by my phone pinging. I felt a flutter of excitement as I dug it out of my pockets, then crossed everything that it wasn't a parent or one of my many siblings.

I read the message, my excitement changing to confusion. People seem to forget you don't get any bloody context when you send a text message. The number of times my mum had just sent me a 'K' and expected me to work out if she was angry with me or genuinely okay with whatever I'd sent her. I played with my phone, mulling the message over as I waited for Harry to return.

"I just got a message." I didn't even wait for him to settle in his seat before blurting out. I was desperate to talk to someone about it and suddenly feeling very glad I'd told him about my little lunchtime adventure.

"From who?" Harry frowned.

"The Minister of Magic, who do you think?"

"Hermione? What does it say?" Harry sat up in his seat, suddenly looking interested.

"Where are you?"

"What are you going to send back?"

I thought about it. In fact, it had been the only thing on my mind since I'd read the message. This was my pivotal moment, and if I didn't blow Hermione away with what I sent her in reply, it could be all over before it started. Most of it boiled down to what I wanted from our relationship. Was it just sex, or did I want her to have my babies? I thought I knew the answer to that, but suddenly, I wasn't so sure as the seeds of self-doubt crept through my brain.

"I think I'll write: 'Hi, how are you doing?' and then maybe a winky face?"

"Oh, come on, Ron! It's after 10! The 'where are you' text is like saying, 'hey, I want to have sex with you, but I just need to know how drunk you are.' She wants the D!"

Bloody hell. This whole situation was far more complicated than I thought. I'd had many girlfriends over the years, but sleeping with someone before we were in a relationship was new to me. I always did things the right way, well, apart from asking Hermione if she wanted me to finger her when we were sixteen, but I blame that on teenage hormones. I didn't want to look like an idiot. Especially not in front of her. I was about to answer Harry when Neville strolled over to our table.

"What's this I heard about you giving Hermione a balloon?" He took a spare seat, his eyebrows raised at me. Neville hadn't been at Camp Hogwarts with us, but he knew about Hermione from all our stories.

"Did you tell him?" I shot an accusatory look at Harry. He was a fucking traitor.

"No—" Harry shook his head and then probably realised he wouldn't be able to get away with the lie for long. "Yes."

"I literally just said you weren't allowed to tell anyone—five bloody minutes ago! What's next, taking an ad out in the Daily fucking Prophet?!"

"Hermione just texted Ron to ask where he was!" Harry quickly changed the subject and turned to Neville.

"Oh, so she loved that balloon!" Neville grinned.

"Come on, Ron." Harry shot back to me. "You need to send a strong reply here. You need to exert your power; women love that sort of macho thing."

I had a strong feeling that Harry was never the fount of all knowledge on this sort of thing, given he had been single for a lot longer than me, but Neville was nodding eagerly, and that man was married, so he must know something.

Harry continued, and I forced my attention back to my best friend.

"What about: 'Where am I? Why don't you check your knickers?'"

"Yeah, please don't write that!" Neville looked disgusted, and I felt the same, to be honest.

"I would never write that. Harry, you suck at ideas, and you are not allowed to share anymore!" I took a swig of my beer, letting the amber liquid calm my nerves.

"Okay, okay. I've got it: 'Boo! Here comes my dick!'" Neville grinned at me, his eyes wide in pleasure. Obviously, married life wasn't as exciting as trying to sort out my love life. Unfortunately for Neville, Hannah chose that moment to swing by our table.

"Neville, that's gross!" She whacked him across the head, then turned to me quickly. "Did you have sex with Hermione Granger and give her a balloon?" She replaced our empty beer bottles with fresh ones, her eyebrows raised.

"Can we not tell everyone, Harry Potter?!"

"I apologise!" One look at his face told me he was not sorry for what he'd done. The idiot was grinning, for fucks sake. Harry watched as I finally typed my response to Hermione. "So what did you write back?"

"'Hi', but instead of a winky face, I put a smiley emoji."

Neville and Harry shared a look with Hannah, and I felt my stomach lurch. I'd said the wrong thing, shit! But as they turned their attention back to me, all three of them were nodding. My nerves melted; I'd done the right thing.

Hermione responded immediately, giving me a thrill that travelled straight to my cock. She must have been sitting by her phone, waiting for my response whilst I debated what to send. I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face as I read what she'd replied with. I quickly texted her my address and downed my second beer before pushing myself up from my seat.

"Uh, Harry. Do you think you could stay out for at least another hour?"

"What? Wait! Why?" Harry frowned. It was already late, and we had a shift first thing tomorrow morning.

"You know why!" I didn't want to say outright that I was leaving to go and have sex with Hermione because I knew we'd discussed keeping things between us, and she seemed to be one of those girls that kept her secrets close to her chest. So instead, I just gave Harry a meaningful look. "Bye, Neville. Bye, Hannah! See you in at least an hour, Harry!"

I almost tripped over a chair in my haste to get to the fireplace at the bar. Neville really needed to get some health and safety measures in place before someone seriously hurt themselves.

⁂

As soon as I got home, I started tidying up. I was pretty sure Hermione would only see my bedroom, but I didn't want her thinking that Harry and I lived like slobs, even though we did. Luckily, it was easy enough to tidy up when you had magic at your fingertips. With the house now looking presentable, I rushed upstairs to brush my teeth, checking my bedroom and my appearance at the same time.

The doorbell rang just as I finished preening, and I hurried down the stairs, making sure I didn't kill myself. I should probably add Hermione to the wards if this was going to start being a regular thing. I kind of liked the idea of her just being able to apparate into the house to have her way with me whenever she wanted.

I sucked in a deep breath and gave myself a quick pep talk. You've got this, Weasley. I opened the door, trying not to look too enthusiastic.

"Hi—" The sight of her waiting on my doorstep stole my breath away. She was just wearing a pair of jeans and a jumper, with her curls swept up off her face, but her simple look did nothing to quell the burning need I had to grab her and fuck her right there in the doorway. She was so damn hot.

Instead of responding, Hermione threw herself at me, her lips locking with mine as her legs wrapped around my waist. She dropped her bag to the floor and slid both hands into my hair, holding my face to hers.

I couldn't stop her attack, even if I wanted to. For such a small thing, her grip was super firm. Her hands slid from my hair to my chest, starting to pull at the buttons on my shirt. Hermione Granger was here for one thing only, but I didn't mind one bit. You'd have to be an absolute idiot to deny someone as sexy as her what she wanted.

I quickly snapped into action once the initial shock of Hermione's outburst of passion wore off. Kicking the door shut, I held her securely in my arms, chuckling at the squeal that escaped from her lips. She threw her arms around my neck, tilting her head back as if she were a damsel in distress.

"My hero!" She laughed, and I couldn't resist nipping at her neck as I carried her up the stairs.

"I'm not a hero. I'm Dracula!"

"A vampire, huh? Not one of those stupid sparkly ones, are you?"

"No!" I laughed and dumped her unceremoniously on my bed. "One of those big scary ones and I will suck your blood!"

She erupted into a fit of giggles as I attacked her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin. She tasted amazing. Her fingers found their way into my hair, tugging at it as she guided my lips down to the top of her jumper. Suddenly, I was aware we were both wearing far too many clothes.

Hermione groaned as I pulled away from her skin and stood up, finishing her abandoned attempts at removing my shirt.

"So, did you like the balloon?" I let the top fall to the floor, making no efforts to cover myself up. The bedroom light was on, so I knew she could see everything, but I didn't care. I used to be a little paranoid about being naked in front of people, especially as my skin was so pale, it was almost translucent. A myriad of scars crisscrossed over my chest and arms, a downside of my work as an Auror and the countless number of injuries I'd received whilst on missions. However, the way Hermione gazed up at me, biting her lower lip as a hand travelled across her body, made me feel like I was the sexiest man alive. I flexed my arms, reigniting her joyful giggles.

"The balloon was adorable, thank you. And you were right. You have ruined my dating life by shagging me!"

I tried not to look too proud of her admission, but I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face. "So, where is it?"

"I went for dinner after work with your sister, so I left it in the staff room. That way, everyone else can enjoy it too!" Hermione started to remove her clothes, her eyes still fixed firmly on my body.

"Brilliant!" I stepped out of my jeans then pushed my boxers down, kicking them away from my feet. I was already sporting a semi, just from the anticipation, and I knew it wouldn't take much more before I was flying at full mast. As soon as Hermione was naked, I climbed onto the bed. Of course, I would be happy to just stand and admire her body for the rest of the night, but I knew that wasn't what she was here for, and I was desperate to touch her.

I decided I'd tease her for a little while and started to press soft butterfly kisses against her lips. As I got closer to her, I noticed that she still wore the same perfume or soap that she did when we were sixteen, paired with the undertone of strawberry that must be from her shampoo. It took me straight back to that moment at the side of the Great Lake at Camp Hogwarts. I was very grateful that over the years, the countless experiences I'd had made me good in bed, or so I thought, and I was pleased that Hermione had refused my offer. We might not have been here right now if she'd taken me up on it, as I was pretty sure I would have fucked it up.

Since Hermione was now lying in my bed, I decided to take the opportunity to make my teenage self happy.

I settled half on top of her, a hand trailing over her soft body. She moaned as I continued to tease her lips with mine, the sound like music to my ears. It helped to be with a girl who told you what she liked and what she didn't. It made things a lot easier.

Hermione carried on writhing underneath me, arching her body to meet my hand as I cupped one breast and then the other, my fingers grazing over her stiff nipples. I could feel how wet she was as she pushed herself against my thigh. It would be so easy for me to whip out my wand and perform the contraceptive charm without any further foreplay, but I decided she deserved a little more attention, especially after she took the balloon joke so well.

I pulled my lips away from hers, wanting to see Hermione's reaction as I dragged my pointer finger from her nipple, down over her lower stomach, flicking gently against her clit before dipping into her.

"Oh, fuck!" Her eyes flew wide open, matching the shape of her mouth as her skin flushed in pleasure. I took my time, adjusting my movements to her reactions. Eventually, I slipped in another finger. She groaned again, and before her eyes fluttered shut, she grinned at me.

"I've waited fifteen years for you to finger me, Ron Weasley!"

I just couldn't help myself. Here I was, lying next to Hermione, my fingers curling into her, and I was laughing. My cock was so hard it ached, but that did nothing to stop the hysterics that threatened to pull me away from her. I fought to get control, choosing to capture a nipple in my mouth to put me back in the moment. And it worked. Once again, her fingers were in my hair as I pressed my thumb against her clit.

I could bloody listen to Hermione's moans all day. Her pleasure was the best thing in the world. Her hips were moving against my hand now, rising in time with every thrust of my fingers. My hand started to ache, but I was determined to make her come. Finally, her orgasm hit her hard, and she shuddered against me, clamping her thighs around my hand. I waited for her to relax, then withdrew my fingers, pressing soft kisses against her skin as she recovered.

As soon as her breathing was back to normal, I settled back over her, my lips pressed firmly against hers. We fit so well together, our mouths wide as our tongues danced energetically. Four hands travelled over hot skin, desperate to touch every inch. Electricity pulsed at every fingertip, coursing its way through my body. I only hoped Hermione felt it too.

I pulled away once more, groaning frustratedly at the loss of contact as I reached for my wand. Luckily, I'd stashed it under my pillow earlier for ease of access. I cast the contraceptive charm then abandoned it.

Finally ready, I slid into her, unable to stop Hermione's name from escaping my lips. Being inside her was one of the best feelings in the world, and I knew it was going to take a hell of a lot of self-control to stop myself from coming almost straight away. Usually, I'd just recite Quidditch stats in my head, but this was going to take a lot more. Only visions of Professor Snape, my old Potions teacher, in his tighty-whities would stop this from being over prematurely.

Of course, concentrating on your slimy old professor only lasts for so long when you have a beautiful girl writhing underneath you. She lifted her hips with every thrust, determined to meet me halfway and spurring me on. My lips were back against her skin, kissing everywhere I could get to as my pleasure started to build. I was determined to make her come again, though, so I shifted—expertly moving us around in the bed so that I was sitting up with her in my lap. Hermione took the hint straight away and slid back onto me.

"Merlin Hermione, you're so hot!" I wrapped both arms around her, holding her body close to mine. The friction our new position created was delicious, and with every thrust, I neared the edge.

"That's it, right there!" The sound of our bodies slamming against each other filled the room, mingling with our moans and declarations of how good this felt, and I was glad I'd warned Harry to stay out. I'd have to remember a silencing charm from now on, as there was no way I wanted to shut Hermione up.

It didn't take long for her to hit her peak. She called my name hard as she shuddered against me, never slowing down her movements. Forget what I said about her moans being music to my ears; my name on her lips was a thousand times better. I came hard too, pulsing inside her as I held her on me, buried deep in her. We were both sweaty and hot, but it was fucking amazing.

Eventually, we slipped apart, both of us claiming our own space in the bed without bothering to cover up. Sex was bloody brilliant, and I felt immediately suspicious of anyone who said they didn't enjoy it. They were obviously doing it wrong. It wasn't hard; excuse the pun.

I turned my head, catching Hermione's eye and laughing with her. Merlin, she was brilliant.

"That change in position at the end was bloody genius!" She was still fighting for breath as she wriggled up in the bed, resting her head against a pillow.

"Sure. I don't know. I just had an idea and thought, fuck it! I'll just go with it and see what happens!"

"It was a good call!"

"Why thank you!" Since Hermione was starting to get settled, I decided to make myself comfortable, too. I turned on my side to face her and threw my arm over her body, sliding one of my legs between hers. She was still warm and sticky, but I found I didn't even care as I started to pull my duvet over us. My intention was for us to fall asleep together.

"We probably shouldn't snuggle," Hermione whispered, ruining my plans. I lifted my head with a frown to see she was lying as still as possible; her hands clamped tightly against her sides. It was so awkward, and straight away, I felt wrong — like I'd violated her personal space.

"Yeah, you're right." I moved away from her immediately.

"I should head out," she sighed, pushing the duvet back and sliding out of bed. She sorted out her clothes from mine. I wanted to watch her, to get a final glimpse of that stunning body, but suddenly, it didn't feel right to do so. Hermione was acting completely different from how she'd been not only five minutes ago.

"Are you okay?" I sat back up, ensuring the duvet was tucked firmly under my arms to preserve my modesty. "It's pretty late. Do you want a snack or something before you go?"

"I can't. I have to go back to work."

"Oh, okay!" I tried to ignore the disappointment bubbling in my stomach. "So, I don't want to freak you out, 'cos you're already acting pretty weird, but I'd love to hang out with you in the daytime? We could catch a movie or something?"

"I can't," she sighed again. "I have no time. I work eighty hours a week doing thirty-six-hour shifts! What I need is something easy. I want to be able to call someone when I finish work at an obscure hour of the morning—a guy who is ready to pop over when I need them. What I want is someone who doesn't want to talk about their feelings with me. Someone who doesn't force me to eat breakfast with them…"

"I hate breakfast!" I folded my arms across my chest, trying my best to keep a straight face, but Hermione saw straight through it, raising her eyebrows at me. "Okay, okay, I love breakfast—it's my favourite meal of the day, but I can promise I won't force you to eat it with me. The rest of the stuff is cool with me. It's not like I have anything else going on in my life!"

She pulled her jumper over her head and smiled at me as she reappeared. "Do you want to do this? We could use each other for sex. It could be any time of the day or night. But nothing else!"

I watched her closely, my eyes narrowing. I was torn. I wanted a relationship with Hermione, but there was no way I wanted this to end either. I bloody fancied the pants off that woman, and now that I thought about it, I had done—on and off since we were sixteen. She was fucking brilliant, despite her self-deprecating quips about not being likeable. I liked her.

A friends with benefits situation could get messy quickly, but I had complete confidence that we had enough self-control to not let it get that way. We were already communicating well, and it was easy between us. Anyway, she was too bright for that.

"Yeah, okay. I reckon I could do that!" How the hell could I resist that cute little smirk and huge fuzzy brown head of hers?

"Good, I think it will be fun! You make me laugh, Ron, and I respect that from a man I'm shagging!"

"Most women go for sexy, but I'm glad I'm making you happy!" I reached for my boxers and pulled them on as I slid out of bed to escort Hermione downstairs. We stopped on my doorstep to say goodnight.

"I don't think this will work, though." I leaned against the doorframe, trying to ignore the cold air on my bare body.

"Why's that?" Hermione turned, lifting her head up towards mine with a curious look on her face.

"Because clearly, you're going to fall in love with me!"

"Oh, really? Well, then we can just do this until one of us feels something more and then we just stop!"

"Well, it won't be me!" I smirked. "You've already admitted I make you happy!"

"I said you make me laugh. It's completely different!" She licked her lower lip, and I knew she was protesting far too much. I took the opportunity to steal a soft kiss from her, putting everything into it. I wanted her to know I would make this as difficult as possible for her to resist me. I had Hermione Granger hook, line, and sinker.

I pulled away slowly, the grin creeping back on my face. "Good luck with that!"

She laughed once more, her nose wrinkling up in that cute way, and I ignored the flobberworms in my stomach. She checked her surroundings, making sure none of my muggle neighbours were out and about despite the late hour, before turning on the spot and disappearing. I stared where she had just been standing, feeling more than just a little gobsmacked at how my evening had turned out until I started to get too cold.

I shut the front door, almost jumping a mile as Harry greeted me in the hallway, a smug smile on his face. I had been so caught up in my thoughts about Hermione; I hadn't heard the floo activate.

"Awww, did I just miss Hermione?" He grinned.

"You did. We're sex friends now!" I sounded so pleased for myself that I didn't even care when Harry laughed.

"That's not possible. There's no way two people can just have sex without catching feelings. Now, will you take your pasty ass off to bed before you make me ill? We have an early meeting in the morning, and Robards will go nuts if we're late!"

"Yessir!" I saluted him and followed him up the stairs. I didn't even wish him goodnight as I stepped back into my bedroom and closed the door. Nothing could spoil my good mood, not even the thought of my meeting with my boss first thing.